sᴇᴠᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀʀs || 𝙊𝙣 𝙃𝙤𝙡𝙙 ||

sᴇᴠᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀʀs, ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪ

⇢ present moment ⇢

Omorfiá blinks in shock, and sucks in a sharp breath. She's appalled at herself, staring with clear shock at the first-son of the Hamatos. Her eyes suddenly drop in shame, as if a victory was stolen from her.

She glares at the floor in loathing for the first-son, before feeling a tug at her neck; her collar, and the silver leash resting in the firm grip of her master, tugged on by the Samurai.

Shredder brings her forward, just her, leaving the others to cower behind him. Omorfiá stumbles to his side, choking back a cough. She looks up at the man who had removed his helmet during his discussion with Splinter. She glares up at his cloudy eye and face marred with scars of flame and blade.

"This is Omorfiá, my most promising student— after my daughter, of course."

"Of course," Splinter nods to Shredder's words as common-knowledge, which they are.

Most know how Shredder favors and cherishes his only daughter, in his own twisted way. Some have heard rumors of how he pushed her to be the best in every form of combat and killing.

Omorfiá knows of this all too well.

"What a name that is; Omorfiá. Where does it come from?"

Omorfiá spares the speaking mutant a glance, hiding her surprise as he appears to be addressing her. Is he really asking her about her name? Omorfiá remains silent, knowing if she speaks, consequences await her. Shredder despises when she speaks.

"I wouldn't know. It was the name on her plaque when I purchased her," Shredder answers as if the question was for him.

"Hm. Still, a lovely name. Come, please, eat. You all look famished."

Shredder glances up and down the table, observing a place set for him as well as each of the girls accompanying him. Omorfiá observes him contemplating, his eyes glancing down at her with a knowing look. She glares back.

"Very well. Suwaru."

The others shuffle in approach with a trained obedience. Shredder directs each one to a seat with a threatening grip on their shoulder. A grip that says I can break you. I will break you. Do as I command.

Omorfiá feels this grip on her shoulder, making her grow stiff and prepared for a strike to follow; a habitual reaction. Instead she is guided to the seat on the left of Shredder. He pushes her to her knees forcefully, sinking to his knees on his own accord after her. He settles himself on the cushion beneath him, turning his attention to his host seated across the table.

Omorfiá squirms away and sits on the cushion provided for her. The chain linked from her collar to his hand jingles against his armored forearm.

The girl looks up in disdain, finding herself seated in front of the turtle in blue. She glares harshly at him, her angered look met with a suspiciously kind smile.

"Welcome to our home. I am Leonardo; I heard your name was Omorfiá?"

Omorfiá finds it odd that he speaks to her with such warmth, a tone that is foreign to her ears. She purses her lips, denying him an answer.

Leonardo watches her grow still under his gaze, at first angry and scowling up at him from their previous, silent interaction. It's when he speaks that her features falter, her animosity fading as she stares at him in quiet. He watches her lips pinch into a thin line, as if to physically stop herself from replying.

Leo's eyes glance up to Shredder before returning to the female sitting in front of him. He can assume the reason for her silence easily. She's wearing a collar, parts of her neck rubbed raw from the leather clinging to her throat. She has scars littered around her face; one interrupting the hairs of her right eyebrow, one just below the corner of her left eye, and a long scar cutting across her nose, down to her cheek. The kimono wrapped around her body is a hasty covering of a woman smothered under the boot of a tyrant. Even now, she sits shockingly still, intimately in-tune with Shredder's every move that she watches in her peripheral vision. As if a single flinch would bring her punishment.