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Message: <blockquote data-quote="orchid blossom" data-source="post: 6257646" data-attributes="member: 12815">Abigail’s mind immediately began calculating. What are my assets? Not armed. Still have a sharp pen in my pocket, hard-heeled shoes. Comb in hair sharp enough to scratch deeply but not seriously hurt someone.From the sound of his voice, where exactly is his nose? What’s the necessary angle to crush it with an elbow? A fist? Where are his feet? Toes or feet can be broken with a heel strike. How tall is he? Backward kick to the groin? Unlikely to hit home. Spin and kick in his knee from the side? Is he armed; can I get it from him? Is he lying about the others?What do they want? Interrogation? Recruitment? Threats? Blackmail? The employers aren’t concerned about committing an open assassination of a well-known person. In a crowd.All these calculations and questions passed through her mind in a fraction of a second. Outwardly, Cal could feel the sudden coiled tension of her muscles, the subtle shift of her weight onto the balls of her feet. The soft sigh of her quickened breath passed her lips.All this she held in check. Her every instinct was screaming at her to take the threat down. But they had chosen their moment well. And Cal had every right to survive into the next moments.Prevented from lashing out with her fists, her next instinct was to run her mouth. An instinct which she also ruthlessly crushed, and the effort of it and the feeling of helplessness were beginning to fuel a very ugly anger.The voice that came out was sweet as honey, but her accent was thick and dark beneath it. “You’re always so in demand, Mr. Stuart. I suppose I’m not so faint with hunger that I can’t spare a few moments.”[ooc]This is what happens when I have entire morning to ponder a post![/ooc]</blockquote>

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