It was a cool night in Erda. The moon was full, people were about and a celebration was about, flooding the night in yellow.

The main house, The BIg House as it is called, stood not four streets over and two streets down from the main square, was the source of a significant portion of this yellow light, bar a few dark rooms where guests were prohibited. The house was owned by a woman who owned a company. A company that made and sold several brands of things, furniture, clothes, hats, vehicle parts, and a cargo industry. All alongside several weapons depots.

The woman had a husband. A second husband that is, because the first one left her for another and left her with an infant daughter years ago. So, to give the girl a father, she found a man and they named their child Bryce.

But tonight, a girl with navy blue hair in a braided rattail and a pretty dress that was a tad bit baggy on her walked through the crowd, hidden behind a butterfly mask. Like everyone else, she had marks on her hand, emphasized and framed by gloves with holes for fingers and palms. Her eyes were green, skin an olive hue. And a sly smile that begged men and women to come closer.

She walked through the crowd with a cool confidence, and the halls and rooms were no stranger to her. But she walked with a purpose. Her slippery hips brought themselves up to a fairly good looking security personnel with armoured gloves that climbed halfway up his wrist. The older men and women around them eyed the two as they chatted up, while the girl eyed the handgun strapped to the man’s leg and the key card chained to his belt.

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And so, as the celebrations went on, the sly young lady brought the guard into a room and seduced him.

“Turn around.” she said. “I don’t want you to look just yet.”

The guard obeyed, listening not to her voice, but to the voice beneath his belt. Only to be listening to the ground as something blunt knocked him out.

Behind him, the girl stood, clad in a green tunic that stopped at her hips, a red sash about her waist, and two knives, one of which was used to knock the poor soul out, strapped to her thighs. She bent down over the collapsed man, taking his key card and unloading his gun, hiding the bullets around the room.

Thankfully for her, she picked a room with a sizeable vent for her figure. Using the knife on her right thigh, Oben as she affectionately called it, to unscrew the bolts just enough to wriggle the cover off and place it to the side.

Before leaving, she walked back over to the guard, looking down at him. “How unfortunate that we met under these circumstances. It’s a shame on me really. I was kind of starting to like you.”

She bent down low and kissed him on the cheek, leaving lipstick where she had kissed. A toothless grin spread across her face and she slipped inside the vents, closing the vent cover behind her.

So, Bryce Olwyn had everything she needed to raid the Big House’s private chambers. Why you might ask? Well, the answer, to Bryce, is quite simple.

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To find her father’s ribbon.

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