Jun 5, 2015
— superstesum —
No words. No sound. Nothing, only movement. The slow, silent steps of a male too big for such stealth, yet perfectly mastered. Target: two-point-five feet ahead, back turned, off guard, Luphomoid, female. She was studying something on the metal runic-carved table, hands planted on the surface, slightly bent forward. Although she didn’t look aware, he knew better. He pursued onward, schooled his breaths to limited intakes, and once the space dwindled into reaching distance a hidden blade was pulled, flickering in the low lighting of the ship. Another step and Ronan rushed the dagger toward Nebula’s jugular.