A Helpful Hand

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"And stay out, you damnable Harlot!"
Shouted the owner of The Faucet of Wellness, a little hole-in-the-pipe "pub" stuck in the UnderHive. The small woman he literally tossed out didn't even hit the ground before door slams and the roar of laughter at her plight resounds through the thin sheet-metal walls. Too weak to even shout back, the frail form just lays there and sniffles, trying not to sob as the crowd walks around her. She doesn't even have the strength to fend off a thief that rifles through her clothing, taking not only her (admittedly pitiful) money, but an opportunistic grab as well before moving on.

She whimpers in self-pity before finally turning her head sideways to try and look around. Her pale cream skin was blotched with bruises and other discolorations, and her raven hair was roughly cut to less than shoulder length, likely by her own hand. Overall, she couldn't really be described as pretty. Her features were slightly uneven and comely overall. The woman's cheeks are sunken in slightly, as if she hadn't eaten much at all for several weeks, and her forehead felt like it was on a grox-steak being overcooked from Thrill-Pill withdrawal.

At the very thought of food, her stomach growled and ached, making her moan and curl up in a ball. Please...God-Emperor on Terra, deliver me from this. If I matter at all, I beg you....just give me something. Anything. she prays.

In answer, the UnderHive's Caustic Rain alarm goes off, making the "streets" clear out, leaving the wretched person alone to suffer through the polluted rain forming in clouds high above her head. That is enough to finally cause her to break into sobs as the first drops fall, sizzling on her skin and causing even more blemishes to break out. "Shhhh...it'll be okay." A young woman's voice tells her in a whisper as she feels a small blanket cover her body from the "Rain".

Jezebel is too weak to object when the newcomer drags her several dozen feet into a covered alleyway and can't help but lay in the woman's arms for quite a long time. Only when she's offered water does she have the strength to look up at her savior.

A young woman, barely an adult, smiles down upon her. Her long black hair flows past her shoulders and only helps to show off her beautiful features. "We'll rest here a bit. Just till you've gathered your strength. Then I'll take you back to my gang. Don't worry, you'll be safe. We're just a bunch of Joygirls and the like."

"Did...did He send you?"
Jezebel asks weakly, resting in her comfortable embrace.

The younger woman gives a chuckle before offering a small shake of her head. "No. Not the Emperor. Someone...else. But don't fret about it now, we'll have a long time to talk about it later. Promise."

Maria's promise falls on deaf ears. Jezebel, feeling safe for the first time since the start of her "tutelage" in the Underhive, had fallen asleep.


This probably seems a bit out of place and doesn't make much sense for anyone who doesn't know the PC well, but if you do, I figure this would provide some answers and insight.