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Week 2 Update
🕑 Added 2025-11-17 18:59:17 +0000 UTCSorry for being a bit late. Yesterday was a headache (I literally went to bed at 7. I also hate this whole dark by 5/6 bullshit) and today I'm fighting a food coma. Alright, I do have some sneak peeks, as promised. This week only a bit chaotic cos of a small little trip I went on and now just need to get my head back on for work. Made some nice ... what's the word (brain is in a food coma right now) progress ... yea, omg this isn't good lmfao. But yea, made some good progress on SoS. Happy about Week 2.
:: Sneak Peek 1 ::
"Yes, I understand fully. Do what you have to do, Supreme Commander. Because my views aren't going to just vanish overnight because //you// said so."
"I don't give a damn about your views. You are one lucky terran because that shaph that walked out of here a few minutes ago believes in you so damn much. Forget about me for a moment, I'm sure that'll be easy enough for you. If I send you away right now, would you even feel bad for Sin? Commander Sin who has practically put their career on the line because of some nonsensical hope in you. Let me remind you," she starts, shifting in her seat so that she's now leaning in closer to you. "This is a bounty hunter organization, not a choose your pet project one. I don't care about anything that makes you, //you//. Even more so because you have proven to be nothing but a foul-tempered liability.
"Now. This is your last chance. And when I say last chance, I mean very last chance. If you fail to bring in this next bounty then that's it. I don't care if you have to beg them. Bring them in or don't even bother coming back, because you would do better just making a run for it." You stiffen, hearing everything she doesn't say. She'd probably lead the damn hunt herself if you tried that.
"Dismissed."
:: Sneak Peek 2 ::
"I'm surprised you came," Natalus greets as she shifts to the side, allowing you to enter her room. A tad more decorated than your own, but sparse enough to give you the idea that whoever lives here is hardly ever present. Some leftover food containers decorate the counter, a cup or two rest on the table, and a lone jacket is draped across the booth. But that's it. The rest of the room is relatively clean and put together, with no personal touches except for a footlocker and a picture on a nearby end table of who you believe is her family. You spare it a quick glance before passing your attention over to her.
"Not a fan of decorating?"
"Did you really come here for small talk?"
You shrug with a grin. "I didn't just want to walk into your place of dwelling and tell you to strip off all your clothes."
"Maybe that would've gone over better," she snorts, pressing her body close to yours as she claims your lips. She's demanding with her kiss, a promise that she'll do all the work—if you allow it—while also assuring you that she'll make the problems you're attempting to escape disappear if only for an hour or so.
