Blood Sport

[Oriena]

Ori watched expressionlessly as Giovanni's fingers wrapped about the fighter's throat. Internally she pressed at the very edges of her senses, but still felt nothing of what she knew the other man was doing. Then the body crumpled, bereft of life. It was over with disappointing swiftness, considering how difficult the release of the fighters had been to accomplish. Chaos fanned the flames of her intention - and she had intended a carnage - but her sights adjusted quickly, interested simply to see where things would go now. A casual sweep to locate the other combatant instead clapped eyes on Mr White. The corners of her lips hitched a small smirk, but her gaze didn't pause.

The Sigma's question was interesting. He'd know as well as anyone here that weapons were forbidden in the club, and management went to great pains to enforce that rule. It was second only to the ban on cameras. Her eyebrow arched, that smirk still toying at the edges of her mouth, but she didn't interrupt. Giovanni's apparent possessiveness might have sparked retaliation, but instead she tolerated the gesture and only lounged, like a cat with a favoured mouse.

Security already swarmed the crowd in reaction to the unexpected violence. The conversation wouldn't remain private for long. A person could not be owned, exactly, but Giovanni had just dispatched one half of the Almaz's grand finale. The loss of earnings, the loss of spectacle, it would certainly not be appreciated. And who was Giovanni? A nobody in this elite circle, unprotected by wealth or power.