Biting Remarks

[Victria 0]

Laarell sauntered into the gym, shucking the civvies to reveal the set of exercise gear she wore underneath. Like most of her off-duty clothes, it was cut just a fraction tighter and higher than it needed to be -- or lower, in the case of the waistband slung over her hips.

 

She stepped towards one of the more isolated areas, stopping dead in her tracks as a slow smirk spread over her face. "Oh, here is trouble," she said to herself, quietly, and approached the other occupant.

 

"Why, lieutenant!" she greeted, considering the dark-clad woman. "Fancy meeting you here. A little pent-up energy? Surely there are better ways to get rid of it."

 

Victria paused mid chin-up, her gaze narrowing a fraction as her training was interrupted. "Then why are you here?" She resumed her pull on the bar, dropping one arm to work on the other, making the exercise look effortless. Unlike her human counterparts, she did not sweat. She had no need to expel heat when her body temperature was so much colder and could withstand extreme changes in other ways. She grunted as she finally dropped to the floor, clasping her hands over her head and arching her back as she stretched upward.

 

"The attention, for one -- not many places I can go around the ship scantily clad without being on report," she only half-joked. "Besides, I'm not releasing energy -- just keeping up tone.” She rolled her head once, and smirked at the Al-Ucard. "So how's it feel?" she asked, stretching tight muscles.

 

"How does what feel?" Victria knew quite well that the smug smirk the Orion wore led to something deeper. She had an idea of what it could be and the thought irritated her. Everything about the green woman irritated her, especially the fact that she seemed to be deliberately trying to goad her into an altercation. She had moved to one of the practice dummies and was now busy pummeling it in hopes of breaking off one of the limbs.

 

"Being home, of course. Back with your old friends -- the giant arachnids. Did they throw you a little welcome back party?" Laarell sank into a slow split, watching the vampire -- who apparently had a great deal of stored energy. Then again, that was what happened when one's outlet was commandeered.

 

A muscle in Victria's cheek twitched, but she did not pause her sparring. "Yes. We all celebrated at a wonderful ceremony where they toasted me with the blood of your kin for the glorious victory I fought for my people. Afterwards, they discussed how gullible the Federation is for trusting them and how soon they will be staging their uprising." Finally, the head of the dummy ripped free and flew across the room. Victria ceased, satisfied.

 

Laarell snorted. "Wouldn't surprise me. You are quite the little traitor... wouldn't surprise me if you came back around and decided you wanted to betray us, next." She arched back over the stretch, smirking. "Probably not stupid enough to, though -- when you got back, your own people would probably kill you for earlier sins."

 

Her back stiffened visibly and she turned to stare at the green-skinned woman, her expression murderous. "What do you know of me or my people? Nothing!" She hissed.

 

"You didn't think me a traitor as I was aiding your people to crush the Scorpiad's plan for domination. But now that you are safe and no longer have need of someone like me, you sneer at my methods and the decisions I've made and taunt me with things of which you have no knowledge?" She took a step forward, her fists clenched. "Are you seeking a fight or do you wish for death?"

 

"Fight?" Laarell gracefully stood, considering the Al-Ucard. "No, you don't seem in the condition for it, what with my having a level head right now and such. As for death..." The Orion took a challenging step closer. "Are you threatening me, lieutenant?"

 

"Yes, as a matter of fact I am." Victria hissed again, not backing down. She closed in, her fangs bared in anger. "Keep prodding and you'll soon discover what it means to truly fight an Al-Ucard. We sparred once and the outcome was not favorable for you. It shall be worse in a true fight."

 

“Oh, but I've been getting so much more exercise lately," Laarell commented, smirking. "Do you think you could kill me? Or maybe you could," she allowed. "And then you can go running back, back to your little friends with venomous stingers. Go ahead then!" She held her arms to the side, her posture good in form and balance. "Attack, unprovoked. No wonder they had you shipped away from civilized sentients."

 

"You go too far," she grated out, still snarling. Something inside her had changed, however. The anger was there, but not the control. She did not fly into a blind rage as she would have a few months prior. Instead, she allowed herself a few heartbeats more of wishful thinking before she turned sharply away.

 

"It is true what they say of you on this ship. I have heard more stories of you than any other and I thought them only rumors." Still angry, she began lifting the heaviest weights she could find.

 

"The Orion's a treacherous whore?" she offered. "Now, now, that's just affection." She smirked.

 

"No, that one I believed."

 

"And the others?" She prodded, assuming the bars she'd stumbled upon Victria using when first she'd entered.

 

"Most of them center around the denial of your insecure nature, and pinpoint it being the focus of your need for attention."

 

"Insecurity? Hah." She smirked. "I had a conversation the other day in which, I was assured that I am indeed a rare and beautiful creature." She raised a considering eyebrow. "Maybe you need the same."

 

"I have no need of anyone to fill me with empty words or false sentiment." Her lips curled back off of her teeth in smile that could never be considered friendly. "I know perfectly well who and what I am and do not need others to define me."

 

"Oh, really?" she hissed. "And what's that? An abandoned rarity -- a freak of nature?"

 

It was Victria's turn to smile. Pausing with one weight against her shoulder, she shifted her gaze back to Laarell. "If you'd like. But most importantly... Not. Like. You."

 

"Must be," she commented. "Must be why Segami chooses my bed over yours, little vampire," Laarell added, condescendingly.

 

"You?" The weight she'd been holding hit the floor with a loud thud. "You are the reason why he's been avoiding me...” Her gaze narrowed again, but she slowly smiled after a few moments of thought. "Perhaps he thinks I care for him, the way humans so often do for one another. And he chose you to seek comfort?" She laughed. "Because you are always available?"

 

She smirked. "Why, no. More along the lines that I am exotic... skilled... beautiful... and I don't drink blood."

 

Victria snorted dubiously. "And do not forget… easily accessible. But perhaps you are under the assumption that I care about your relationship with him? I don't. We had but a passing encounter. If I had claimed him as my own, there would be little you could do to draw him to you." Unsmilingly, she put the weights back, lifting them without effort.

 

"Vamp mojo?" She suggested, shrugging. "I wouldn't put it past you to ensnare him with your charms or blood or whatever. Less scrupulous than an Elasian."

 

"Still insecure," she muttered, shaking her head. "Just what is your issue with me, Orion? Is it that you feel I am some sort of competition? Or do you just dislike me in general?" Equipment put away, she approached Laarell again, significantly calmer. "What did I do to earn your disdain?"

 

"Competition... your attitude..." She shrugged. "Attacking innocent Starfleet commanders didn't help... the fact that I find you easily capable of treason?"

 

Her smile broadened and she let out a small bark of laughter. "You take offense that I attacked Corizon? You'll be holding that grudge a long time, I'm afraid. He did not do me any favors and we have yet to discuss what transpired."

 

“Absolutely and entirely unrepentant, I see," Laarell commented. "I am wondering if this specimen before me is illustrative of her entire species."

 

"That I could be so honored. Before you continue your self-righteous campaign against me, put yourself in my situation and ask yourself how you would fare. I wager that you would have made many of the same choices."

 

Crossing her arms over her chest, Victria smiled as a sudden thought struck her. "I just realized what is bothering you most: you are afraid that you are more like me than you are willing to admit.”

 

Laarell hissed, her teeth unconsciously and aggressively baring. "I am nothing like you, vampire."

 

She only continued to smirk. "If you say so. Then again, I'm not the one looking for a fight." Giving the Orion one last look, she turned and headed for the door.

 

"Last I checked," Laarell drawled, "sparring wasn't fighting in the most traditional sense."

 

"Sparring... right. I'm sure that's what you wanted." She sounded completely unconvinced. "Enjoy your exercise. I hope you work out whatever it is that is haunting you, Orion."

 

She glared. "Hope the ceiling tile doesn't get tired of your charms, vampire, and dispatch you to whatever circle of hell is reserved for the traitorous. I think it's the deepest one, but maybe there's something even better for vampiric traitors."

 

Victria paused at the door and threw Laarell a fang-filled smile. "If you are ever interested in exploring those charms in depth, come and find me. I will certainly make allowances for your churlish nature. I would not pass up a chance to try authentic Orion blood."

 

She smirked. "So the truth comes out? Have a hankering to sample a bit?" She smirked. "You're cute, but I like being the one who draws blood, vamp." Almost playfully, she waved her off.

 

"I'm Al-Ucardian and you would be wise to keep that in mind. It takes more than a wooden stakes or silver to kill me. A lot more." Victria chuckled and disappeared into the corridor, more amused than annoyed.

 

Laarell chilled. Victria was definitely not a woman she planned on letting near her throat -- or anywhere else -- anytime soon. Definitely not.

[Images 0]

JELLO FIGHT!!!!