Mistress Elizabeth shifted the board around, centering it on the table. She looked up at him, holding the leather paddle in one hand. There was no smi...e on her face. Something was up."Your move," Mistress commanded.Todd looked at the board. The opening move in checkers -- there weren't all that many choices. He pushed a red piece toward the center of the board, diagonally."One square," Mistress announced, "one swat. Stand up and bend over, slave."Todd looked at the board. What had he gotten. A few survivors of the Quincy attack, Preston and I for now, but we are reinforcing it and setting up space for more. I expect we will put up a beacon pretty soon, looking for people interested in settling there. Feel free to send anyone you think might consider it there.”Juan had been chatting with Trudy while standing against the counter on the opposite side of her. While talking he had been watching her eyes, and it wasn’t more than a minute before he saw the reaction he had been looking. He sighed and opened up the fridge."You know, Aaron. I don't give a damn about what you think anymore! You're so immature." His mother spat out as she stormed out of the kitchen and stomped up the stairs. Aaron was dressed in usual house-apparel, shirtless with soft pajama pants. He looked really exhausted, and leaned up against the counter behind Derrick."Did you finish that homework?" Derrick continued to rummage through the fridge."Yup."Aaron picked up the cordless phone and poked Derricks. " Snobbish and proud, she laughed, an annoying, tinkling sound that people associated with high society but always just made me want to smack someone. A snarl escaped my throat, low and full of menace."Spoken like a true tyrant," Marcus continued with a soft snort. "Attempting to reenact a dark, disgusting past does not mark you as important, just petty and desperate for recognition." So you say," she countered, another subtle movement catching my eye. Just a flick of her hand but the guards.