(Takes place during the infiltration threads)
She was in the middle of sharpening blades and applying poisons, when she heard the distinct sound of her shower suddenly running.
Slightly puzzled, Lariska immediately got up and went into her washroom, already she could see that the shower head was not so much spraying out water and more blasting it away. Getting closer she could make out the accompanying noise of the strain and creaking of pipes going on; a whole plumbing system on the fritz.
Stepping half way in, she grabbed the shower’s knob and twisted it right. Which did nothing to the flow streaming flow of water. She then turned it left, which still gave no results. The nob was switched back and forth frantically, showing not a single amount of amount of change or input into the overhead.
Frustrated and already wet, the hunter clenched her left hand. The side of her mechanical fist hit the wall, banging against it in succession several times over under the shower arm, hard enough to create cracks in what was left of the thin glaze of ancient tilling. Water started to sputter, matching sporadically against the sounds of reverberating old plumbing. Finally, as the whines of water and steel reached a high screech, it all stopped at once. The oncoming tide of water had receded to droplets and the moaning network behind it had hushed.
“Damn fucking place falling apart.” Lariska muttered under her breath as she stepped back away and snatched a towel.
Moving not far over, the hunter leaned against the room’s sink, her left hand keeping steady on the basin as she ran the cloth down behind her head and neck. While Lariska wiped the water from the back of her shoulders, her gaze idly drifted around. Intentionally or not; her sight then cought on the wall...focused upon the bare discolored stone space right above the sink. The former place of missing mirror...
Its absence brought back a chilling stark reminder for the hunter. There was no security, no safety, nor comfort even within her own room.
Should that really be much of a surprise though? As she had learned more and more lately, the sanctum of her private quarters weren't the only thing that can be violated.
Her memories. Her emotions. Her mind! All of it had become fair playing ground for everyone else, outside of her awareness or control. Whether it be from the Toa, Makuta, The Shadowed one or... Tre̵n̴ K̷r̴o̸̖͕͝m̶̗̭̄~-
A dull throbbing slice of old pain started in Lariska’s left shoulder, were metal parts start to imbed into organic flesh. The twinge of nerves dragged in another truth into the mix. Bringing up that it was not just her mental being that had been encroached upon over time.
The hunter’s mechanical hand tightened on the basin, cracks forming over the worn gloss coating of the sink.
As the rest of her remained caught in stillness; she could feel her own familiar numbness start to split open, morphing, twisting into something else... For a moment her body felt much colder... out of place... not her own...
Then there was suddenly shaking. A sudden quake took hold of the whole fortress. She nearly lost balance, Lariska’s right hand quickly dropped the towel and grabbed hold of the sink’s edge, keeping herself from toppling over. Soon the event was already over, returning the base back to stationary place.
Lariska re-steadied herself and straightened up. With the earth tremor breaking her from the previous ephemeral trail of thoughts, she hastily pulled herself away and out of that washroom.
Going over, she snatched her recently sharpened group of daggers; many with poisons still wet and dripping down the blades. Still in motion and without pause, she briskly marched out her door to find whatever distraction she could...
