<div style="text-align: center">《Sou》<br/>
Location: Dryden<br/>
Addressing: Charles and Kyle <a class="username" data-user-id="36" data-username="Sayd" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/36/">Sayd</a>, Carla <a class="username" data-user-id="288" data-username="Flannel King" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/288/">Flannel King</a>​</div><br/><div class="bbImageWrapper bbImageAligned--left js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/transformed-2-jpg.132077/" title="Transformed 2.jpg">
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</div>Sou stood expectantly, hands folded in front of her hips, waiting quietly for what she wanted. That was what good girls did, after all. Otherwise they might find themselves back-handed, or feeling their mother's bamboo switch smacked across the back of their thighs. People thought that the segmented fishing rod was a decoration to celebrate their culture, but Little Sou knew better – it was there to be within easy reach if she should ever 'run her mouth' or 'act smart.'<br/><br/>In this case, 'smart' meant 'disobedient.'<br/><br/>And so she stood and watched the delicious hunk of chocolate muscle talk to Carla, his concern for Sou's condition and the anger tinging his voice (or so she thought) making her immediately like him. After all, he was caring for her. He was, in a sense, protecting her.<br/><br/>"I will do what I must," Sou replied. She had already walked across half the world it seemed, every step agonizing as newly wounded skin cracked and bled. The pain was so constant she was beginning to become accustomed to it. "You'll help me." Had she lilted her voice at the end it might have sounded like a question. As it was, those three words were more a statement, a resolution.<br/><br/>She clutched at the back of his arm as he began to walk, and though her hand was bird-like it was strong. She clenched her jaw and walked, one step after the other. She didn't notice whether Carla came or left them; all that existed was the arm, the steps, and the ground right before her feet that she focused upon.<br/><br/>Charles' voice made her lift her eyes. What she saw pleased her greatly. Her eyes roamed freely, taking in every curve and dip on his apocalypse-leaned form. Sou had a feeling that he was a thirst trap even before things got rough. She simply stared, lips parting slightly as she sipped at the air that separated them. "Sou," she said. "My name is Sou, not 'girl.'" Her hand released its death-grip on Charles' arm as she took tentative steps towards the little cabin. She was grateful that there were no steps to climb.<br/><br/>"Satan's man marked me. They loathe perfection…" she let her voice die down as she got her bearings in the small cabin and slowly looked around. "I was perfect. Now my perfection is inside, and the Messenger has delivered me to his place."<br/><br/>Her fingers wrapped around the edges of her shirt and she began to undo the buttons. Sou had no shame as far as her body went; before it was from vanity, now the pain made it so she just did not care. She began to shrug the shirt off her shoulders, revealing a slim torso marked from hip to shoulder and neck with the hard, dark lines that had been etched by Alvaro's hand.<br/><br/>She shimmied the sweats over her hips and let them slide to the floor, stepping out of them as casually as if she was wearing a swimsuit underneath and was going for a dip. She had nothing underneath; just bruises, the harshly-carved tattoos, and the almost gaunt lines of her pelvis and hips beneath olive skin that had once been pristine.<br/><br/>Turning her pert face towards Kyle, her full lips cracked and abused, she smiled softly. A hint of insanity tinged her gaze. "Don't you think I'm beautiful?"