New day, new chapter.
As always, thanks for the reviews and favs.
As a bit of fun, if anyone is interested in how the fight between Astrid and Shego would look (not completely accurate, but give the feel) look up the Mike Tyson fight from the Ip Man series. If you're interested in the loan/housing thing, look up The Big Short (great movie, very well acted).
Chapter 22
Another week.
Astrid cracked her neck, stretching slowly. Across from her, Shego was stretching her legs and back, her fingers reaching for her toes. Luke was perched on the hood of the green truck, watching them with his bland mask, behind Astrid. Ron was sitting counter to him, resting against a tree.
"You sure you want to do this?" Astrid asked with a grin, rolling her shoulders. "Last time we did this you were in peak condition, not having rested on your master's lap for a months on end."
Shego snorted, standing up and taking a guard stance, throwing a few practice punches and kicks. "Which will just makes it all the more impressive when I beat you," She said with a smirk. Astrid sighed and rolled her eyes, before taking her own, more boxer like stance.
In a moment, Shego was reminded of how utterly massive Astrid was as she charged in. The woman had nearly an entire foot on her, and at least sixty pounds of pure muscle. Yet that seemed to do little to nothing to slow down the woman's speed, and her blows landed with bruising force on Shego's defenses.
Shego was grateful for her own super human strength and toughness. Twisting under one of Astrid's blows, she threw an uppercut at the woman's jaw, forcing her to break her attack and fall back. While the raven-haired woman knew she was out of shape, her natural abilities put her close to Navy SEAL level at the moment, at least for someone her height and weight.
Nearly a minute into the fight, she was pretty sure that while Astrid was purely human in terms of her physical body, she was also at SEAL level for someone her size, which was a problem. In any physical fight, the bigger person always had the advantage, and the greater the size difference, the more overwhelming that advantage. Training, weapons, they could close the gap, but they could also open it back up.
Shego threw herself into using her super human agility into dodging blows, often forgoing punches to land more devastating kicks. Astrid took the blows on the iron bulwark of her muscles, issuing grunts only upon the heaviest of kicks. The raven haired woman couldn't help the wolfish grin that spread her lips. For the last few years the most challenging fights she'd gotten were from Kim, all speed and flurries of blows, bouncing around like a rabbit. Astrid was no Kim Possible. She was a mountain.
A blow landed hard in her belly and sent her flying. She huffed out her air, reducing the power of the blow and twisted herself to land on her feet. Astrid was already upon her, and she threw herself around the other woman, lashing out with a vicious double kick, her hands planted firmly on the ground. It caught Astrid in the ass, sending the woman stumbling forwards long enough for Shego to get properly back to her feet.
Then she attacked, launching herself at the valkyrian woman's back, going for rapid kidney punches. Astrid grunted, twisting in place, and Shego's vision filled with giant fists. She blocked them, barely, but was driven back under the woman's weight. Then they were in a clench, twisting to avoid the others blows and drive their own into ribs suddenly exposed.
The truck horn blared, making them jump back in surprise and glare at Luke, who was giving them a slight smile. "Fighters, back to your corners!" He called over, leaning against the door of the truck.
"Fuck you, Luke!" Astrid yelled, wiping sweat with the bottom of her tank top. Shego couldn't help but be impressed by the completely defined six pack the woman had.
"This is a friendly fight, you big lug," Luke called back. "A charity bout, for the children. Not some belt match."
Shego walked over to Ron and gratefully took the offered Gatorade and downed half the bottle. "How you holding up?" Ron asked, concern writ large over his kind face. "It looks brutal out there."
She rubbed her belly as subtly as she could. "Woman is a damn tank," she said softly, "And not a small one." She gave her master a vicious, joyful grin and he sighed.
Turning around, she found Astrid in Luke's face, yelling at him while the dark haired man suppressed a chuckle. Picking up a pine cone, she launched it at the back of Astrid's head, where it bounced off with a light 'ponk.' The valkyrian woman spun, fire in her eyes.
"We gonna stand around and talk all day," Shego asked with a wolfish grin, "Or we gonna fight?"
"Oh, we're fighting," Astrid said. She practically flew across the open ground, bobbing and weaving. Shego threw herself at the other woman, turning it into a flying kick at the last moment.
She bounced off Astrid's guard, flipping to throw sweeping kicks as the woman's legs. The woman bounced lightly over the attacks, then was on her. For a moment, Shego was worried about wrestling with the woman on the ground, but threw her legs around the woman's hips in a wrestling guard. Blows rained down, but she blocked them as best as they could.
Ground fighting was still to Astrid's advantage, but her strength was mitigated by both space and leverage. Punches were tossed to the side, as both woman tried to trap and twist limbs into holds. Astrid powered through some, and Shego used her unnatural agility to twist out of others. Shego knew if she used her plasma, the fight would be hers, but they had agreed she would leave it out of the fight in exchange for Astrid doing the same with her hammer, and her pride wouldn't let her break that agreement.
Then it happened. Astrid got her in a hold she couldn't escape and she felt her arm being twisted into submission. There was no escape, Astrid had her, so she gave up her guard, twisted, and wrapped her legs around the giant woman's neck.
Ron and Luke were standing over them, looking down, as they strained, refusing to tap out, knowing the first one who did was the looser. Ron looked worried, Luke just looked thoughtful.
"I'm gonna call it a draw," the dark haired man said, stroking his slightly pointed beard. "I think that's the best option."
"Probably the best," Ron said. Shego glared at him and he gave her an apologetic shrug. "It's true, Sheila. You're not getting out of that hold, and she's not getting out of yours."
"She'll pass out first," Shego groaned, then huffed as Astrid somehow put more pressure on the arm.
"Not before she would break your arm in a real fight," Luke said. "Now break it up, it's a draw. I'd rather not have to deal with taking anyone to the hospital and risk you guys getting found." When they refused to budge, his voice got a harsh edge. "Now!"
Astrid sighed and let go, Shego doing the same. They stood slowly, brushing leaves and dirt off themselves. Ron was looking at her with such pride, she couldn't feel disappointed about not beating the other woman. As Ron took her into his arms and gave her a loving kiss, she couldn't help but notice the sad and jealous look Astrid shot her at the affection.
"Why don't you do that for me Luke?" Astrid teased as the couple broke apart.
"Because you already have a boyfriend and I don't screw around with women in relationships," Luke said, dispassionately. He threw back his head and drank deep of his own Gatorade.
"You have a boyfriend?" Shego asked, probably with more surprise than she intended in her voice. "What's he like?"
"He's a crime boss," Luke said, wiping his mouth. Astrid shot him a glare that would reduce lesser men to ash.
"Really?" Ron asked, completely shocked.
"He wasn't when we met," Astrid said tartly.
"Spill," Shego said with a grin, leaning tiredly against her Master. "Sounds juicy."
"Yeah, he was basically just a drug dealer," Luke said, almost grinning as he dodged Astrid's fist. "Some dude with a passion for alchemy who was basically making an alchemical drug people took to counter their addiction to other drugs."
Astrid glared furiously at Luke. "He is an honorable man," she spat, "Whatever his profession."
"I never said he wasn't," Luke said, "But he is a crime boss with an army of goblins who has managed to take over a third of our home state and doesn't look to be interested in really leaving the rest of it alone."
"And the area is safer for it," Astrid said with a growl.
"Depends on your definition of safer and who you're asking." Luke said. "And for how long a period you're talking about. The local crime families certainly don't agree with you."
Astrid gave him a flat stare. "Are you really going to complain?" She asked, her voice hard.
"No," Luke said with a shrug, "But A is A. However much you justify his actions by their benefits, he is what he is, and he's done what he's done."
"Whatever, give me that," Astrid said, stealing Luke's drink and downing the rest of it. Shego almost laughed at the disappointed way Luke gazed at his empty hand.
Shego knelt outside the trailer, nude and miserable. She whimpered as the cold water from a garden hose poured over her head. Her eye glared balefully at her Master.
"Don't give me that look," Ron said, running his fingers through her hair, working to dislodge thick, muddy clay from her thick locks. "It's not my fault the soil here clogs up the bathroom drain. And given we barely managed to fix it last time, you know this is the only way."
"You're the one who threw me in the mud puddle!" Shego growled. She looked mournfully at the sports bra and shorts that were discarded a few feet away from her. It was going to take so much work to get them clean.
"Hey, I wanted to put off training after all that rain last night," Ron said, giving her a gentle smile, massaging her scalp as he tried to make the water flow stronger by pressing his thumb over the hose. "But you insisted on training in bad conditions so we could be ready for anything."
Shego shivered. The water was really cold. She didn't mind Ron bathing her, though she really wished it was inside, with hot water. And the sun couldn't really cut it through the trees to warm her up.
They'd been training like normal, though she'd been going easier on him because of his panic attacks. But she'd come a little to hard, and he'd freaked. On the up side, he hadn't broke. On the down side, he had reacted by pulling off a perfect throw that sent her sailing through the air and to a deep, large puddle of soupy clay mud that had managed to get everywhere, and refused to leave. The last time this had happened, it had been Master in the puddle and they'd just showered off inside...and nearly destroyed the plumbing.
She shut her eyes as water and mud flowed over her face. Ron made gentle, soothing sounds as she whimpered and shivered. If the water had been nicer, she would have really been enjoying herself and her Master's attention. He moved around her and started working her hair further down. His fingers were gentle as he tried to untangle and de-mud the silken strands.
"You really are beautiful," Ron said softly. She flushed, moving with the gently tugs on her hair. The water soaked through the mud, slowly dislodging it so her master's hands could wipe it away. His fingers trailed her back and shoulders, slipping through the dark mass. His fingers gently tickling her green skin.
Then he was moving in front of her, gently washing her arms off. First the left, then the right, taking his time, his fingers making her heat up despite the cold water. Her breath started getting faster and faster.
"Okay, hold your hair up behind your head," He ordered. She gathered the soaked locks in her hands and bundled it at the back of her head, fingers interlocked behind her skull. She flushed as she realized how utterly submissive she looked. Kneeling, legs spread, arms behind her head, back arched, breasts shoved forward, full ass resting on her elegant feet. Her breath made her breasts heave, and her nipples were so hard from both the cold and the heat they ached. She looked up at her Master, eyes hot, and saw she was having a very obvious, and luscious effect on him.
He washed her face clean, fingers teasing her cheeks, her lips, her eyelids. Then he was caressing her neck, cleaning off her collar. Next, her chest, the water a waterfall over her breasts, his hand gently palming her flesh, wiping away mud and dirt. He brushed her nipples, and she couldn't stop the whimper of pleasure, or her body moving into his hand. He was so cruel, the way he paused to massage the fullness of her, fingers stroking and digging in, before lightly pinching and twisting the emerald caps to her peaks.
"Master...please..." She moaned.
"Soon, pet," he said, huskily, "No sense both of us getting dirty."
Then he was caressing her belly and sides. Strong, soft fingers, firm palm. He moved behind her, washing her back from shoulder to ass, which he again palmed and massaged, drawing needy whimpers from her lips and rolling jerks from her hips. Next was her legs, making her kneel up so he could wash them completely.
Lastly, he moved to her core, starting at the back. She shrieked as the water and his fingers gently caressed her backdoor. Then the icy water and his ever so warm hand was on her core. Parting her, touching and washing every nook and cranny. She shrieked again and tried to shy away as the water went insider, but his fingers were on her trimmed bush and held her firm, until he was done and his fingers trailed over shaved lips, and her needy little button.
The hose fell away, as did his pants, and he was upon her. His shirt went next, and his hot chest was pressed against her chilled back, sending waves of warm and love and need through her as he took her firmly, dominantly, masterfully. She was his instrument, and if he wasn't a musician that could perform in world famous orchestras, he was that guy with the guitar on the street who played well and brought pure, unadulterated joy to those who heard him.
She howled as he completed her, his own fulfillment coming briefly after as she shuddered and panted in his arms and against his body. She mewed, nuzzling his neck and jaw, planting light kisses and soft licks, murmuring her love for him. Her fingers tangled in his messy hair, pressing him close to her.
"I love you, Master," she mewed.
"I love you too, my Sheila," Ron said, kissing her lovingly.
Shego watched Ron and Luke carefully over the top of the novel she was reading. The two men were sitting at the table, Luke drinking beer, Ron with a soda. She'd been willing to let him engage in underage drinking previously, but after the incident she didn't allow him to drink around Luke. Too much of a chance of vino veritas sparking another attack, she felt.
"You really don't think people deserve a living wage?" Ron said hotly.
"I didn't say that," Luke replied, "I said raising wages wasn't a solution."
"Why not?" Ron asked, looking as frustrated as he always did while 'debating' with Luke. Shego wasn't sure why her master insisted on these debates, but she'd given up trying to stop them. Luke would always respond, like it was some sort of compulsion, and Ron was never happy just walking away. Better to let them butt heads till someone was willing to walk away in frustration. Usually Ron. So long as Luke's symbiotic friend didn't attack, she figured it was the least harmful option she had.
"Look, you know what inflation is, right?" Luke said. Ron, to his credit, made a non-committal grunt. "It's when money becomes less valuable. It's one of the most devastating things that can happen to an economy. It's started tons of revolutions and wars. When you can spend a trillion of your currency and not buy a loaf of bread, you are fucked."
"Yeah, but what does that have to do with raising the minimum wage by a few buck so people can afford shit?" Ron asked. "It's not going to cause hyper inflation."
"But it will still cause it," Luke said, idly tapping his beer on the cheap table. "Do you know those candy bars you can get for like a dollar at the check out?" Ron nodded. "Well, those used to cost five cents. Hell, a burger that would cost you two dollars at McDonalds used to cost fifteen cents when they first opened, and twenty five in the seventies."
Shego looked up in surprise, a look matched by her Master. "Sure," Ron said, "But people made less money back then."
"True," Luke said, "But when you think about it, has that hamburger changed? If you take the same burger, and you sell it for forty years, and it doesn't really change, you've still got the same bun, the same patty, same toppings, same basic caloric count, you can say it has a base value." He sipped his beer, "You will get exactly the same amount of physical energy from that burger at any point in time. But it went from fifteen cents to two dollars. So if the value of the burger hasn't changed, then clearly the value of your currency has, and it's is a fraction of what it used to be."
"I...never thought of it like that," Shego admitted, drawing looks from the two men. Luke nodded.
"Few people do," the dark haired man said. "They just look at a raise and think they're making more money, and then later they'll complain that things are more expensive than they used to be, but they never put two and two together in a real way." He gave a sigh. "Some people are lucky, and they have jobs that can keep up or surpass inflation, so they just see themselves getting richer and being able to buy more things. That's not the case for most people. Most people can barely make ends meet, with jobs that always lag behind."
"So why not increase their wages so they can keep up with them?" Ron asked. "Let everyone have that?"
"Because it's like running a race against a lit fuse," Luke said, returning his gaze to the younger man. "Imagine if you've got a bundle of dynamite strapped to your back, and someone lit a long fuse. They tell you, if you run fast enough, you can outrun it. But the fuse is attached to you, and the faster the run, the more air hits the fuse and it burns faster and faster. Sure, in theory, you could just keep increasing wages to keep up with inflation, but the more you do that, the more you have to do it. Then all of the sudden everyone is being paid in wheel barrels of money and they can't buy a loaf of bread."
"Okay," Shego said, "fair enough. But that basically is saying 'we can't solve the problem, so everyone has to suffer so a few can not suffer,' which isn't any way to ask people to live."
"True," Luke said. "But what is the biggest expense most people have and why everyone is demanding higher wages?"
Ron and Shego sat thoughtfully, and she reflected they were probably not the people to really ask about what cost of living was. Ron was a high school kid whose parents took care of everything financially, and the first time he got money he'd been basically swindled out of it. She'd lived in an HQ funded by her city, and then as a Villain she'd just kinda went from job to job, crashing in lairs or bases. She'd never even had an apartment of her own.
Not that she hadn't looked, but when you run around from lair to lair across nations and countries, being hunted by GJ, having a stable address and a lease was a luxury you weren't going to really visit. And after looking at the prices, she figured a storage locker in various places was a cheaper bet. They'd run generally in the thousand or more dollar range, and she'd recalled wondering how people could afford them.
"Housing," She said after a moment. Luke gave her a smile.
"Exactly," Luke said, "That's not the only one, utilities, insurances, bills pile up fast and hard. But lots of people spend half, two thirds, or even more of their earnings on housing before they even get to other bills."
"So what's the solution then?" Ron asked, "Just build more houses and apartments?"
Luke's smile faded. "That's one option," he said, "There's others that would work better though. Do you guys remember the housing crash when we were younger?"
Ron shook his head. "I think I remember people talking about," Shego said, "But I was really young and just knew people were really sad about something."
"Okay, well from what I heard at the time and learned later, basically the Banks were making loans and then they would bundle those loans up and sell them on the stock market." Luke said, toying with his beer, "There was a lot of money in it. A fuck ton. It was one of the things that turned banks from being a place to keep your stuff safe to money making machines, at least more than they had been in the past. But there's a limit to 'safe' housing loans you can make. Ones where you know people can pay back the loans. But greedy people like making money, and when the well runs dry you dig deeper or you dig a new well. And sometimes the water isn't as good."
Shego watched as sorrow and anger played across his face. "So they go to people who might have trouble paying it back. There was some government pressure as well, claims that the banks were being racist and stuff like that. And hey, if they don't pay back the loan, you can just take what they bought as your payment for the loan. So they tap a new well, sub-prime mortgages. People who by rights shouldn't have gotten loans, or at the least shouldn't have gotten loans as large as they did, many with variable interest rates." Luke said.
"Variable interest rates?" Ron asked. Shego felt the same confusion and slight dread that was on her Master's face.
"Okay, there's basically two types of loans," Luke said, "lets say you borrow money from me. I can loan you that money at a fixed interest rate, say ten percent, which means that I add ten percent of the loans value onto what you owe me for each year it's not paid off. It's bullshit, but it's bullshit that's not changing on you."
"Why is it bullshit?" Ron asked.
"Because depending on the amount you take out, and the rate you get, you can end up owing the full amount of the loan in interest, if not more. On smaller amounts, it's not as noticeable, but on larger ones? If you borrowed a hundred thousand dollars from me at ten percent, then you owe me ten thousand dollars a year in interest alone. In ten years you would basically owe me two hundred thousand dollars, more or less." Luke said, anger in his eyes. "A person can double, triple their money, without lifting a finger, by basically enslaving someone with debt."
"Like all those people with college debts," Shego said, setting her book to the side.
"Exactly," Luke spat. "You get some kid out of high school, whose had their whole lives filled with propaganda that college will give them wealth and a job. Then you show them the price tag, which they could never hope to pay on their own, and give them a loan at some fucked up interest rate because they have no credit. They spend tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of dollars, get their degree, only to discover that the degree they were promised is utterly useless because it's some bs degree that would be worth something if a few people had it to act as experts on the field, but never had enough jobs for thousands to do it. Or you get people who were smart, and picked a profession that was a good money maker and in demand when they started, only to find everyone else was as smart as them and now the job market is flooded by people who were all expecting well paying jobs. So they end up back where they started, working low end jobs that pay for shit, with an ever growing debt whose interest they can barely keep up with assuming they can, much less pay the principle of the loan. Slaves of debt, spending their entire lives making money for some bastard who will never need to lift a finger, with no way out because the banks paid off the government so their slaves could never escape the plantation." Luke spat a vile curse that practically curdled the air.
Ron looked shaken. "Remind me never to get one of those," he said softly. Shego found herself nodding slightly.
"Then we get to variable rate loans," Luke said, his face dark. "They're loans that will start you off with a 'good' interest rate, but there's a catch. If you don't pay back the loan in a set period of time, the rate spikes. You can go from say five percent to twenty five percent. They'll sell it to you that you can refinance, get the low rate again, but there's always qualifiers that can fuck you out of that."
Shego did the math in her head and felt horror. "And people eagerly signed up for it, because they all dreamed of their own homes," She said softly.
"And then, inevitably, when something happened and they couldn't pay the loans, the banks came in and kicked them out," Luke said darkly. "There were any number of reasons. A slight down turn in the economy, a job sector being flooded with cheaper labor. A medical accident. Reasons varied, but the results were the same. People couldn't pay, people lost. Some people saw it coming, they took steps to protect themselves and others. Some got rich, and I can't hate them too much for it. But there was a knock on affect and everything went to shit. Which meant more people lost their money and then their homes, which just made it worse."
"Well, now you've got a problem." Luke said, "The housing market is collapsing, but everyone's got money tied up in their homes. If the value of their house drops, then they're fucked, or at least the banks are. So the banks, who suddenly have countless houses in their possession, lock them away. Who knows how many people are homeless, and so everyone's competing for places to rent, which drives prices even higher than the immigrant population already was, and boom, now rents in the thousands."
"Immigrants?" Ron said, "You're blaming immigrants now?"
"They are a contributing factor," Luke said, "It's the basic law of supply and demand. You import hundreds of thousands, millions of people, they need somewhere to live. And if they're used to much more cramped living conditions than we Americans are, they're happy to tuck as many of themselves into an apartment as they can." He crumpled his empty can slightly. "Say you have an apartment that rents for four hundred dollars. You have a couple rent it, they pay two hundred each, fairly comfortable, they got money for bills. Now say you rent that same apartment to four immigrant guys on work visas, well, they only have to drop a hundred bucks each. In fact, each of them could easily pay two hundred buck each and not really feel it. More and more of them show up, the company running the apartments realizes 'hey, we can charge more' so they double the rent. Now rent is eight hundred bucks. The immigrant guys don't care, rent's only two hundred bucks each for them, but for that couple? Suddenly they individually have to come up with four hundred bucks each month. Shit's a lot tighter now, quality of life goes down. And then you have the housing crash and suddenly there's too many people, and not enough housing, so rents go up even higher. Well, the immigrant guys are now paying three hundred a month, the couple is trying to come up with six hundred a month each. In some places its even higher and worse."
Shego watched as his hand clenched the can mercilessly. "That then has knock on affects," he said, sadness tinging his voice, "That young couple have to work longer hours, so they see each other less. They're more stressed, so they take it out on each other, because there's no one else. Instead of building a life and having children, the money they would use for that is taken up by rent and loan debts. Instead of building a loving family, they build a desperate partnership that falls apart as they seek emotional support elsewhere, because the person they should be leaning on isn't there, they're off slaving away, desperately trying to keep from starving on the street. Children are not born and raised and loved, and that is used as an excuse to bring in more immigrants, to fill the holes of the dwindling population, which then drives wages down and prices up." His anger faded as sadness filled his voice. "And where once there was a joyful people, there is only the teaming masses of a different culture to replace them. The cycle of history repeats, and when the new way comes, the old way ends in flames."
"You sound like a white supremacist," Ron said, looking at Luke darkly. Shego watched them carefully, ready to jump in and defend her master if Luke looked like he was going to do something.
The man only gave a tired sigh. "I suppose you could say that," he said, "The truth is I'm merely an ethno-nationalist. I believe everyone does have a right to their homeland, to live in it with peace and prosperity. Same as the Dahli Lama." Ron gave him a stunned, disbelieving look. "You can look it up, he believes every nation should be for its people. I don't know why anyone should be surprised, given that he's been fighting for his homeland to be independent and for his people, rather than a slave state of the Chinese, for decades." He picked up another beer from beside his chair and cracked it open. "Besides, if you're so against the idea, how do you feel about open borders for Israel, Ron?"
Ron looked uncomfortably at his soda as Luke gave him a gimlet stare. "Don't like the idea, do you?" the dark haired man asked. "Your people have suffered. They built Israel as a safe harbor for their people. And what good is that if all the world can march in, out number the Jews, and your so called sacred homeland suddenly turns into another nation of goyim who can bully and hurt them?" At Ron's small nod, Luke continued. "It's not wrong to feel that way. In fact I encourage you too. But don't be a fucking hypocrite about it like too many of your kin, who will demand borders be flung open for every nation but their own, who view themselves as doing good work by destroying the unity of other people's nations and identity. If you have a right to a land of your own, so does everyone else, even if you hate them."
Shego looked at the array of tiny little paper figures in front of her. She'd built them herself, using glue sticks, hot glue, cardboard, and some pre-printed figurines Astrid had dropped off along with spiral bound printouts of Mordheim rules. The tiny mercenaries of Reikland, ready to do battle.
She stretched her arms over her head, getting the kinks out of her back and showing off her bare breasts to her Master. Ron paused to watch her for a long moment, making her flush with pleasure. She'd never considered herself the crafting sort, but boredom led to new hobbies like no one's business.
Ron had his own little warband of Witch Hunters, crafted and ready to go. The floor was cleared, books and cds had been set up to be little buildings. Her master was going over the rule book again, double checking the math on their two warbands to make sure they'd done it right.
"Alright, so, looks like the first mission of the game is some kind of street fight," Ron said, adjusting a couple of the buildings to make a clear avenue between the two of them. "We each try to punch through and get out the other side, while preventing the other team from doing just that."
Ron got to go first, his warband consisting of five heroes and multiple dogs. She set up, with her five heroes, and the crossbow men she'd chosen. His team raced towards hers, eager for the advantage. She responded by putting a couple of heroes forward to melee, and then opening fire. Most of her shots missed, but a dog went down.
Then Ron was upon her, swarming her forwards heroes. She responded by unleashing a volley into his heroes. One of hers went down, but so did two of his.
The third round, Her other melee hero went down, the dogs charging her leader and the remaining two, but they held the line and dogs were stunned or taken out. Her crossbow men fired, but missed. Ron was forced to take a route test, and his men fled the field.
"Shamefur Dispray!" Shego cheered, remembering something Felix had said. "Shamefur!"
"Yeah, yeah," Ron said, looking a bit sour. He rolled on one of the tables. All his dogs came back, but one of his heroes died, and the other took a leg wound.
Shego pouted cutely at him when he handed over the rulebook. She wasn't quite sure how it worked, but in the end no one had died, and one of the melee guys got a nifty scar that made him better somehow, she wasn't sure.
She looked up and saw Ron was still upset. Internally, she sighed. He'd been getting more and more like that. As the panic attacks faded, and maybe the nightmares it was hard to tell, his mood kept staying dark. She set aside the rule book and crawled around the play area.
"Pets, Master!" she said, bumping his arm with her head. "I won, and I want pets for victory."
Ron sighed, but his face lightened as his hand came up and started working her scalp. Shego collapsed in pleasure, half laying across his lap and growling softly. She wriggled her ass, clad only in a thong, and relaxed. The game might only be something to pass the time rather than something she was crazy over, but this, this is was she lived for in their little trailer. Master's touch, pets, cuddles, and breathing in the scent of her master.
If only he was happier, like he had been before they'd had to gone the run. Before he and Luke had that discussion, before her Master had cruelly brought up Blackwolf's lost love. She felt her Master respond to her closeness and nuzzled his thigh. At least like this she could distract him, let him know he wasn't alone.
At one point her Master had wondered if they should be out there, joining in on fighting GJ. Being stuck here wasn't helping, but she'd told him one truth. Right now, Ron was legally in the right. His only crimes were defending his home and his pet, regardless of what GJ said. If they went out there, and they fought, then that list of crimes would grow and it would only make getting back their lives that much harder. She didn't tell him the other truth. That in his present state, he wouldn't be able to fight. Not in a way that would let them survive it.
Shego wriggled further into his lap and rolled over, exposing herself to her Master. "Pets!" she demanded. Ron shook his head and started stroking her belly, his hand trailing his fingers lightly from the base of her breasts all the way down to the patch of 'fur' between her legs, and back again. It tickled, making her wriggle and bounce in ways she hoped distracted him. She felt the heat coiling up inside her, looking up at him feeling his strong touch. His reaction grew stronger and she pressed against it as she moved.
He kept it up for an hour, gently caressing her, basking in her warmth and beauty. Slowly the darkness faded from his face and he leaned back against the sofa, just petting her. Eventually his one hand moved to just be playing with her core, slowly driving her mad, while his other stroked her hair and played with its raven strands. Part of her wanted to jump up and take him, but she held off and endured. His touch was wonderful, and playing with her was calming him, and that was good enough. He'd take her when and if he wanted too. Until then, she would except this wonderful torture.
"So how did you become a Jarl?" Shego asked Heather as the big tittied goth girl poured them some tea. The girl laughed, a soft, musical sound.
"Luke," She said, taking a seat. "Well, him and Astrid really. She had been tasked to hand out the ax Risna to the Jarl of Hospitality. Luke was on one of his 'trafficker' hunts which seems to be how he spends his off hours. Well, one night after leaving my job at Hot Topic, a couple guys grabbed me and threw me into a van." She traced the lip of her cup, "I was so scared I wet myself. Here I was laying in the back of this van tied up, gagged, blindfolded, scared out of my mind. I didn't know what was happening, I didn't know what was going to happen to me, but I knew nothing good ever happened to kidnapped girls, especially ones with giant tits."
Shego reached over and placed her hand on the other girl's as the girl paused. It took a moment for Heather to pull herself out of the memories. "Anyways, I don't know how long we were driving, but then we stop and I'm dragged out of the van. In a rush I'm stripped down to my underwear, feel their hands on me, measuring me. They talked about me like I was a piece of meat, one of them even theorized how much they could get for me. At some point my blindfold gets jerked off and they notice my eyes are violet and start talking about how much more they can get."
"So I'm standing there in my bra and piss soaked panties, surrounded by like ten guys, and one of them says they should check to see if I'm a virgin so they can have some fun with me. And I'm screaming in my gag and trying to get away, but I can't." The girl was shaking slightly, but she stilled as she glanced at the closed bedroom door where Luke was resting. "Suddenly, there's this roar of absolute, inhuman rage and the door gets literally sliced into pieces. The guys all turn in shock and in storms the most average looking man I'd ever seen."
Heather's voice took on a dreamy quality as she rested her chin on her other hand, eyes lost in the past. "He didn't talk. He didn't offer them mercy. He just looked me over, then looked in my eyes. I pleaded for help behind my gag, and he just nodded. They pulled out guns and knives, but it didn't matter." She looked at Shego, "Have you ever seen him fight?"
Shego shuddered, remembering. "Like wheat before the scythe," the raven haired woman said.
Heather nodded, the smile teasing her lips. "What can the harvest hope for, if not the care of the reaper man," the goth said, "I'd seen tons of martial arts movies, and he wasn't anything like them. I'd never seen anything like it. Then everything was blood and screams and fear and I was on the ground watching him. There I was, a scared little girl covered in piss and blood, and...I had never felt safer in my life. As long as he was there, nothing would ever hurt me. Harm would flee before his blade."
She sighed dreamily. "When he was done, he took off his coat and wrapped me in it. He took out my gag, brushed my hair out of my face with the gentlest touch, and asked if I was hurt." She blushed and gave a small laugh. "I practically threw myself into kissing him as I thanked him. I don't think anyone he'd saved had ever done that before and he was in shock long enough for me to enjoy it and pull away." Another soft laugh, "I think I scared him, and he was nervous around me the entire time as he cut me free. He even helped me find some other clothes to wear since mine had been shredded." Her smile faded, "They were from other girls who had been there, and we found three more who weren't as lucky as me. They hadn't been virgins, so they'd been entertainment. Apparently I'd been taken to processing place, and would have been shipped out in a few days with them and any other girls who would have been captured to a training facility. Luke found records and that there were two more teams in the city. So we hid the girls. He wanted me to stay with them, but I had a panic attack at the thought of being parted from him, so he let me stay with him while cleaned up the bodies and then waited."
"The two teams came back at the same time, with another three girls. Luke told me to stay hidden, and left me a knife to kill myself rather than be captured. I don't know what was in the documents he found, but he made it clear I didn't want to be taken alive." Heather said softly, looking into her tea.
"Then he attacked. There were a dozen of them, and he was an avenging angel, or a god of death. Whatever he'd found, whatever he refused to let me see, changed how he fought. This was no reaper of souls, this was a monster who fed on the pain of those he attacked. That was the first time I saw hints of the Archleone, because it was like these tendril like wings sprang from his back and they would drag and slice into the men, even as his blade went not for killing blows, but agonizing wounds that would bleed slow even as they crippled." The goth shuddered, but there was a heat to her eyes that Shego recognized in the way Ron looked at her when she was being especially sexy to him. "They screamed in agony, dying slowly, as Blackwolf ushered the girls back into one of the vans. Then he brought the other girls and put them into the van as well. We thought it was over."
"Then this hulking man appears in the doorway, with a couple of, and I kid you not, actual trolls. They were ugly as fuck, and eight feet tall, and they obviously worked for the man. Who was pissed as all hell. He sent them to fight Blackwolf." Heather said, that dreamy quality coming back to her voice. "Trolls can regenerate, you understand. Killing them is really hard. I think they usually consider that a blessing, but that night it was a curse. They worked for an organization that did horrible things to the innocent and the Wrath of Hel was upon them."
She looked at Shego, "Did you know that in the saga of Beowulf, the exact same word is used to describe Beowulf and Grendel? For whatever reason, they translate it to hero for Beowulf, and monster for Grendel in most translations, but it's the same word." Heather said. "That's what Luke was. Both hero and monster. He was an artist, and the trolls were his canvas. They died, slow, painfully, in more agony than I think they had ever experienced. And then he turned on the man. To this day, I don't know what was said, or what Blackwolf did to him, and I'm not sure I want too. But when they parted he was practically mauled to death from those ribbon like wings and if he lived, it was only because he was to be a messenger of the horrors to come."
"Then Luke came back for me, and I think he was worried that I would be scared of him, but I wasn't." She smiled dreamily. "He was my hero, and he was so cool, and I knew I was safe by his side. I could never be scared of him, no matter what. So I gave him back his knife, hugged him as hard as I could, and thanked him over and over again for saving me. Then I refused to leave his side for the next three days, no matter what he tried to do to get rid of me." She giggled. "I wouldn't even let him take me home. I just told my dad I was off visiting with a friend for a few days."
"So we end up finding the training center. I refused to leave his side, and he refused to let me go in there with him. So we're at this impasse, arguing about it, because he clearly wanted to protect me, but he needed to go in there and save who he could while punishing everyone else. When all the sudden Astrid shows up." Heather sipped her tea, a happy smirk teasing her lips. "So here I am arguing with this guy who could tear me apart without trying, and then this giant woman shows up with this big ass hammer, who looks like she could crush an anvil with her thighs, and she's staring at me in shock because I'm right up in Luke's face practically kissing him as I demand to be allowed to help save people."
"'Well, if you want to help, you'll need a weapon,' she says. Luke practically jumps because he didn't know she was there, and she hands me Risna. Luke starts to protest, but Astrid just told him 'It's her fate, deal with it.' So he did." Heather toyed with her cup. "I'd never even used an ax before, but she felt right in my hands, and Astrid walked me through a basic chop and block, and then went roaring after Luke who'd left us behind while she was distracted with me. I go running after them as well, because I'm not leaving his side where it's safe."
"It was a bloodbath, and I killed people," She said softly, "Not as many as them, of course, but I was determined not to be a burden, and when some of them came out behind us I was at the rear and I wasn't going to let them get hurt because I was too weak. Astrid held my hair as I vomited after that first round, but I saw him looking at me. He wasn't judging, he just looked sad, but I swore I would make him proud of me. Knowing what it was like to kill, the terrible burden of it, I swore I would be worthy of the burden he took on killing those men to save me. So I wiped my mouth, picked up my ax, and fought on."
"We saved a dozen girls that day, and I stood by his side as he ended the suffering of two more who had been tortured horrifically as a lesson to get the others to behave. I saw the tears in his eyes, heard his whispered prayers for their souls, and knew that everyday I lived after his rescue, free from their fate, was a day I owed to that man, that hero and monster. I knew it could have been me whose suffering he ended. Astrid had wanted to spare me that, but I refused. I would see it to the end and I did." Heather said, her voice full of sadness and unmistakable love. "After that, though, Luke explained that by taking up the ax Risna I was now a Jarl, and Astrid told me I was the Jarl of Hospitality, and he insisted I go with her to be trained in my duties. I wanted to stay with him so badly, but he swore that we would see each other again, and even work together if it was our fate, but that he couldn't train me to be what I needed to be. So he took what he could from the place, probably to find either more facilities or buyers or who knows, and he left me behind."
"It was during my training that I learned about Maggie, and him, and what he'd been through. I think Henry hoped to win me to his side, telling me all sorts of nasty things, but it didn't work. I had seen Luke Blackwolf for what he truly was, and I owed him my life. He could slaughter entire nations, and I would not turn away from him." She looked at Shego with a smile. "In a way, it's not unlike you and your Master. You are his hound, and will serve him faithfully to the end of your days, no matter where he goes or what he does, be that end sitting on a porch in old age, or on a blood soaked field in battle. You would never abandon him, and I will never abandon Luke."
Ron was screaming.
Shego jerked away, grunting as the wind was driven from her. Ron's fist had just driven itself into her gut, not in a punch, but as a result of harms flailing about. She managed to dodge the next one, rolling out of the bed.
She jumped back in a moment later, blocking his wildly swinging arms as she shook him. "Master!" she yelled, "Master! Wake up! It's just a dream!"
Ron jerked in her hands, shaking hard. "W-what..what...what..." he repeated over and over again, his voice high with panic.
"It was just a dream, Master!" she said, her voice lower, trying to sound as soothing as she could. Shego pressed close, nuzzling him. "Just a dream, just a dream, you're safe now. I have you."
"Oh...oh god..." Ron said raggedly. He clung to her, so tight a lesser woman would have been bruised or broken. He sobbed into her hair.
She pressed close, nuzzling him, telling him was okay, that he was safe, she was there. She told him over and over and over, as his chest heaved raggedly, trying to breath. It felt like forever before his breathing was anything close to steady.
"It's...it's too dark...too dark..." he whimpered.
"Okay, Master, I'll go find some light." Shego said. She pulled away slowly, and turned on the lamp by the bed. Ron relaxed, slightly.
The next morning, she sipped her coffee slowly. He was down to having one nightmare a night now, but too often for her tastes, they were like the one last night. Thrashing, screaming, terrors, not just bad dreams that left him cranky the next day.
She looked around the room absently. Too dark, he'd said. The lamp had helped, but there was no way to sleep with the lamp on. They needed something else.
Luke had been by a few days ago, dropping off supplies. He'd deliberately met her eyes and looked at one of the cabinets. She figured he was being weird again, but he'd made it seem significant.
Slowly, she got up and went to the one he'd looked at. Paper towels, some batteries, odds and ends. She was about to give up when she spotted something that looked like an air freshener that plugged into the wall. She dug it out, and went still.
It was a nightlight. Nothing fancy, no little cartoons to indicate it was for a child. Just a simple, no nonsense nightlight you'd use to give a bit of light in the hallway so you didn't smash your foot on the way to the bathroom.
Had Luke known? Had he gotten it deliberately for them? Sure, he was an odd fellow, but it didn't seem like a whim purchase, not if he'd subtly tried to point it out to her before he left.
Shego doubted he bought it because he felt guilty about what was happening to her Master. Blackwolf didn't do guilt. But he was all about helping those in need, if you didn't exactly think they deserved it sometimes. She pressed the light to her chest, and said a silent thank you.
That night, while Ron watched her get ready for bed, enjoying the sight of her before he faced another night of torment, she ripped open the package and plugged it in.
"What's that for?" Ron asked, and she could tell he was embarrassed and maybe slightly humiliated. Her Master was a simple, but proud, man. He wanted to be strong for her, and didn't like looking weak in her eyes.
"For me," She said simply. "I nearly broke my toe the other night trying to get to the bathroom."
She crawled into bed, naked as always. Ron watched her, reached for her, and she slipped into his arm. "You know, Master, if the dreams scare you that much, I can go back to being your guard dog and sleep at your feet. Nothing will get past me." She said, biting the sheet and shaking her head with a growl.
He laughed, and drew her up in a kiss. "I'll think about it," He said, "But for right now, I'd rather have you in my arms." She nuzzled close, basking in his warmth and love. She was ready for another rough night, but while he slept restlessly, whimpering in his sleep, it wasn't as bad as the night before.
She had her leash to keep her safe in the darkness. Maybe her Master just needed a little light for now. Maybe someday, the leash that kept her safe would keep him safe as well.