Wally West Mobius Chair 소설 & 이야기

There was another growl that rumbled in his chest. “I’m starting to really like this chair.” He grumbled. “We’ll have to see what else we can do in it.” Wyatt groaned and his cock twitched inside her. “Thinking of other things to do in this chair?” she asked huskily. He nodded and she added, “Tell me.”

"This thing will protect you during fights, it can do everything you old chair can do but more, it's way faster, and with its aerodynamic design you can travel at the speed of sound in this and feel no discomfort." "This thing is no longer just a chair to get around now, it's your shield and your spear. There are also a few magic devices installed inside, such as void storage space and Ecko. Connect with it and see." "Okay, I will give it a try," Melody said cautiously. Xasha took her from the couch and placed her in her new chair. She stayed silent for a few moments as she wiggled around to get a feel, "it's so comfortable. My mind feels so calm and open."

"Relax, I didn't swing by today to swipe your CEO chair. The office has this little lounge that's meant for quick breaks, but I've been feeling pretty down and ended up moving in for good, so I've got a bunch of my stuff here. I just want to clear it out, that's all." Alex caught on to Walter's no-nonsense vibe and did not want to make a big deal out of it. "Go for it, and make sure you take everything with you." Alex waved him on, then remembered something else. "Oh, and I've been meaning to catch up with you. Rolling around here in my wheelchair, I bump into all sorts of hassles, so I'm getting the place redone. You dropping in actually saves me a trip." "I'll get right on it, then." Walte

I want to avoid Mysterio's watchful eye so I make my way to the corner of my room where a chaise sat, but of course, his light blue hues drew me in to where he was now sitting on a chair of his own against the door. It's such an obnoxiously large chair that I’m not sure where he actually got it from. It certainly wasn't in here when we arrived, but there he is, draped over it like a lazy prince as he toys with a stick in his mouth.

She had spent the last eight hours as 'Ava Reed,' dismantling Mark’s ego at the office, and now she was back to being the tactical genius who had resurrected me. "Pathetic?" I raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. "I’ve spent four months learning to stand so I could tower over Daniel Vance. Now you want me in a chair?" "Not just a chair," Miller interjected, suppressing a grin as he rolled a sleek, motorized wheelchair into the center of the room. "A chair with a built-in whiskey dispenser and a very loud, very annoying 'low battery' beep. It screams 'I am a broken man who has given up on life.'"

She closed the door. The click was small. It still sounded like something being locked. Now I was alone in my office, sitting in a chair too large and too comfortable for a woman currently considering a list of people she wanted to destroy legally. I had chosen the chair myself two years ago after spending three weeks in a designer chair that looked beautiful but made my spine want to sue. The leather was dark cognac, tall, wide, with a backrest that made me look like the CEO of an interiors magazine, not the mother of a four-year-old who had just accused chicken soup of being propaganda.

He needed me by his side. "Jackson. Get out here now." Maverick yelled, opening the office door. So we ran out to the living room and Wyatt was standing in the middle of the room. His eyes were glowing white again but this time he was standing in the middle of the room and all of his toys were floating around the room while he was standing there watching them. He wasn't laughing or smiling at what he was doing. He was looking at it like it was completely normal. Jackson and I walked up to him slowly and we kneeled down next to him.

My ankles were also tied to a metal chair. I tried to move again. The chair creaked slightly. “Oh hell,” I muttered under my breath. My voice sounded dry. Weak. Then suddenly— A slow sound echoed through the dark room. Footsteps. Calm. Patient. Like someone enjoying every second. A figure slowly stepped forward from the shadows. The dim light revealed a familiar face. Cold eyes. A small smile. Dr. Wally. He clasped his hands behind his back and studied me like a scientist studying an insect.

"I was hoping I could talk to you before anyone else got here." "Sure, come on in." She steps up to allow me to pass behind her into the vast bathroom to take a seat on the closed toilet. "What's on your mind?" "You know I'd never ask you this kind of thing if I had any other option," I ramble my opening statement. "Nope, because I don't know what you're asking." With a slight roll of the eye, I ignore her interruption and continue. "Moby got this amazing device that helps him walk. Like seriously mind blowing. He doesn't need a cane and when he has it on I can hardly notice his limp at all."

But the centerpiece of the room was the chair. Bolted to the floor in the exact center of the chamber, it was constructed of dark metal....probably iron, given the slight smell of rust. Manacles were built into the arms and legs, designed to hold someone immobile. But what made it truly horrifying were the modifications: small blades protruding from the back at strategic points, not enough to kill but enough to cause constant pain if the occupant moved. Grooves carved into the seat to allow blood to drain. Restraints positioned to force the body into stress positions that would become agonizing over time. And sitting in that chair, already manacled and trembling, was Cassandra.