Play@YSDC

The 'toy' immediately goes over to the door and opens it up.

There's the sound of locks turning and chains being slipped off, and the door is opened to reveal her 'toy'. A quiet-spoken German lad who Gemma had met at a BDSM club and enslaved several months ago. He has a leash trailing down from his spiked collar and is a tall man. His chestnut brown hair is short and styled. He is wearing a form fitted t-shirt, red in color, and incredibly short matching pants.

"Jesus Christ," mutters Milly, all trace of excitement at seeing Gemma washed away in the flood of memory evoked by the "toy's" appearance. She registers the unattractive man sitting on the sofa with a knife in his neck and steps through the door, quickly locking the dead bolt.

"Gemma-love, you better be ready for company, because I am calling the emergency services right now. Does the puppy have any proper trousers?" As Milly pulls out her mobile, she looks to see if her bag was damaged in her confrontation with the weirdo. She dials emergency.

<Milly is tall (5’10”) and rangy with auburn hair that she currently wears in a thick curly mass. Her skin is naturally rather pale, though she works at keeping a light tan. Her eyes are a greenish-brown with amber flecks, almost like tortoise shell. Although she isn’t gorgeous, most people find her sexy.>

<ooc-the "toy" puts me in mind of Stephen Merchant >

"Oh mein Gott, Milly!" says Gemma, rushing over and giving her a hug, fingers full of contraband. "I just have to remove all of these bits and pieces of illegal paraphernalia first."

OOC: Milly and Gemma are speaking in German.

"Macht's nichts, libeling," Milly replies <ooc-continuing in German better than mine>, "Flush it or toss it out the window. I'll reimburse you for it."

Then into her mobile she says, "Hello? I need an ambulance and police immediately. Two people have been injured." And she gives the address.

Gemma puts them in a bag, opens the rear-facing window, gets out onto the fire escape and drops it down. There's a clatter as it hits something metallic a few floors beneath. She turns to Milly once she's finished talking on the emergency phone call. "Just ... don't go into the bedroom."

Milly crosses to Gemma and puts her arms around her shoulders, squeezing tightly.

"I won't, dear," she says, "Now, would you introduce me to everyone before the police arrive?"

"You know, pet, and this is Magnus Urquhart, some kind of doctor," says Gemma. She turns to Magnus and speaks in English. "This is the friend I called ... Milly."

"Please, Gemma, tell toy to put on some trousers. This is going to be difficult enough." She steps toward Magnus, steeling herself to look more closely at his wound.

"Is he unconscious?" she asks; then to him, a bit more loudly "Are...you...alright?"

"I don't think we should rummage around in the bedroom getting clothes, the ... body's in there," says Gemma nervously, speaking in German again.

Milly paces the small room, anxiously awaiting the arrive of official help. She peers at the unresponsive Magnus and frets about how the papers might portray all this. Where can the emergency response be? What is taking them so long?

<ooc - I take it we're waiting for a post by Magnus?>

OOC: Sorry, wasn't aware we jumped threads. Magnus is obviously not unconscious.

"Do I look alright you daft cow?! There's a bloody knife sticking out of me fer fuck's sake!" the pasty complexioned Scotsman expectorates.

Milly gives him her brightest "...and-the-horse-you-rode-in-on" smile and turns to Gemma.

"You always find the most intriguing people, liebeling. That's why your parties are such fucking fun."

Gemma just smiles weakly. "He doesn't know any German, I think. We can talk and he won't hear. There are some things I want to talk to you about but ... do you know any first aid? Could you stop the bleeding? He's bleeding everywhere now. I'm worried."

The wound feels like its on fire. With every breath, pains arcs out from the wound and across his flesh in streaks.

Milly eyes the steak knife protruding from Magnus and his forbidding visage.

"I'm not confident enough in my abilities, Sweeting," she says auf Deutsch, "The paramedics should be here at any moment. We'd better wait for them.

She gives Magnus something close to a sympathetic smile.

"I've called for medical assistance," she says in English, waving her mobile jauntily, "They should arrive soon."

Turning back to Gemma, she asks, "What do you need to tell me, Mouse?"

Milly locks eyes with Magnus for a moment. When she turns, she finds the room empty. Gemma and the toy are gone, though no one saw or heard them leave.

As soon as Milly realizes Gemma is gone, she checks the deadbolt on the front door. If it is open, she looks into the hall toward the elevator and the stair. If the deadbolt is still locked, she moves to the bedroom door. Hand on knob, she listens for Gemma's voice. After a moment, she gathers her concentration and courage and opens the door to look inside.

"Ah Jaysus, Mary, and Joseph! I'm dying here... Where'd those drug-addicted deviants bugger off to?" Magnus groans.

The dead bolt has not been touched. The first room of the apartment includes a kitchennette and small lounge area. There's a little nub of a hallway that leads to three other rooms. The couch sags in the middle. The kitchennette floor hasn't seen a mop in years. The television and VCR seem to be the only valuable items in the whole visible area. The smell of perfume, lavender incense sticks and musk fills the room. A song can be heard playing from a machine in the bedroom - "Sway" by Michael Buble.
Milly gingerly opens the bedroom door and finds herself in a seductive lady's bedroom, hung with red-and-black tapestries along the walls. Shiny black furniture - wardrobe, bedside cabinet, dressing table. A green incense stick poking out of the mouth of a silvered dragon perched over what looks like a cracked stone ravine. No sex toys in sight - perhaps they were in the wardrobe. So many scented candles clutter all of the surfaces.

A woman lays, bound with black leathers, upon the top black covers of the king-sized four-poster bed. The cover beneath her lays smoothed out as though by cautious hands. Her light brown hair lays fanned out upon the pillow beneath her head. Her lips, painted ruby red, are slightly parted. Her eyes, brushed with golden eye shadow, lay glazed and staring. The gash in her lower abdomen reveal the slight spillage of intestines. The lacerations on her arms and legs, dozens of them, glare at Milly in red contempt.

The air smells richly of blood but not of decay. The body is fresh. The intestines not yet split.

Milly -- saddened, sickened by the tawdry death -- closes the bedroom door and moves to open the other two.

"Gemma?" she calls softly, almost unconsciously, "Gemma?"

The bathroom sink is stained with toothpaste. The cabinet above the sink has a dusty mirror. The blue shower curtain has a thin line of mould across it and the overhead vent is clogged with dust. The other bedroom has a bed covered in only black silk sheets, no pillows, a stripper pole and a rack containing men's clothes.