The Iron Price [FWC]

Needless to say, Sista A was less than pleased by Zarya’s veiled threat - or, at least, what she saw as a vieled threat. She started to raise up as if she might do something, but Anesthesia put a stop to it by simply raising a hand and touching her compatriots shoulder, the lightest gesture possible. It was enough. Sista A, still seething but quiet, merely moved out of the seat and grabbed her coat of the nearby wall.

”As much as I’d love to see you two get to know each other over a cup of Russian tea, I’m afraid Aisha and have some engagements we must be getting to.” Anesthesia stood and folded the paper under her arm, her pleasant smile never wavering. ”It’s been a pleasure meeting you in person, dear. I suspect this will be the beginning of a very interesting partnership.”

With a final wave, Anesthesia made for the door with Sista A behind her. As she went, the fallen pop star took a moment to turn Zarya’s way, sneering down on her as she spoke.

”Watch your back, bitch.”

And with that, they were gone.