WQ - After The War | Hidden

After the War Hidden

Time: Noon
Place: Astorea Castle | Dungeon
Objective: Pain

​

"And I can use whatever method that fancies me?" Vivian asked Cessia. There was a cruel looking grin on the Malefimancer's expression. It riddled a sickness that seemed to trigger the woman and her enjoyment of watching people suffer. Of course, Vivian was more of a passive character in such throes of chaos. She was an observer most of the time, normally allowing the dirty work to be done by those who were more sick minded. However, she did fancy herself a sick minded person. There were times when sweet and innocent didn't cut it in this game world. She knew that a wrong mistake could mean life and death. She could use her charms to lure in those with easy minds to prey upon, but she too had been tested to that degree as well.

A flick of the wrist and Vivian had been given the OK to do what was necessary for Astorea, however, she was sure Cessia would not like to hear the scrumptious details of her own methods. As Vivian walked away with a sway of her hips, the older female cast a large shadow in the halls of the castle as she made her way towards the Prison Quarters. Down a long path of stairs, only lit by small torches upon the wall as she was lead further and further down until the coldness of the earth crept over her skin.

She shuddered lightly from the chill down her spine as she placed a hand over her nose. The prisoners seemed to reek of something awful as her eyes and nose scrunched with distaste. She was not too fond of Beast People and the Caenis were exactly that. Nothing more than wet dogs to be beaten as Astorea was now their proper Masters. Clearing her throat, the woman continued down the hall. Cells lined up one after another down the cooridor until she was met with a few guards.

"Name and business, ma'am."

"Vivian Cruz, and I am here under the orders of Cessia. I was asked to see if I could...gather intelligence on the Caenis tribes and their other camps. Be a good boy now and open those doors for me to the Special Prisoners." Her lips churned into that wicked and alluring smile. The Guards had heard that some would be coming down to question the Beast People, her story checked out as well.

"In ya go, then. Should you encounter any trouble, let us know. We'll come runnin'"
"Oh. I don't think I will have any problems handling a few dogs." She assured them as the gates creaked open to lead to the special prisons of war section. Vivian erected her form, her hips swayed more fluidly as she took off in more powerful strides down the hall. A cage as it were befitting of a mongrel race was erected for a pair of two Caenis members.

Vivian's azure eyes slowly started to give way to a hideous and vehement purple making sure they knew exactly who they were messing with and to know their place. The Hound People were chained to a wall, their limbs bound of any movement as their claws were filed down and their teeth seemingly pulled from their maws from earlier questioning. Vivian smiled.

"Hello creatures." She said almost giving a higher than thou tone of voice to them snapping their attention to the woman.

"You have stated earlier that you were more or less driven by a Tyrannical Overlord to do their bidding under one named Snefrid. Is that correct? I can see that some of you wolf people can only do one thing and that is obey or have your nose rubbed into shit if you are bad. My Commanding Officer wants to know the locations of your tribes and anything else in particular for that of Astorea. If you are willing to cooperate, I can promise that this won't hurt too much for you. You see..."

Her hand lit up in some kind of menacing, dark aura as her fingers flicked back and forth calling upon her Maleficent Power, a small sparking above her fingertips just as a show. "I can be very good at what I do, or I can be very bad at what I do. Sometimes I screw up...on purpose and it becomes really bothersome, ya know?" With her fingertips rubbing together, the spark and power seemed to gently ease away.

"Now, how about that information? Where are your tribes located?"

The two hounds looked at one another but didn't say a word and looked back at Vivian with a shake of their head. Her eyes squinted at them, but her smile never shifted. "A prideful people are you? I didn't know animals had pride. Don't want to be a tattle tell, huh? That's ok. You don't need to speak... Your screams will tell me." She said sinking her body forward and whispering into their ears.

All it took was a simple hand on one of their foreheads before a blood curdling yell ripped through the halls echoing loudly through only accompanied by that honey laughters that only Vivian could pull off. When the male Caenis growled and screamed, the other female seemed extremely disturbed by this event. Vivian had ceased her probing, the pain was dull but significant. It was as if one was gently peeling away layers of the skin, one after another. It was a burning sensation that seemed to last for ages and it dug deep into the pulp of the muscles.

But what was fascinating was what she had learned from the other, "Lovers? Are you two married? Hahahaha...What a joyous event. Don't make this hard on your Partner, tell me what I want to know...Or I'll make the pain for him last eternity in here."

@Cain Darlite | @Alonso Thorlion | @Comet

 

What sort of person was it, that willingly took up the task of interrogation and torture within the darkest dungeons of Astorea? What sort of adventurer was it, that would go out of their way to perform such a paltry task? Sadists and experimenters, clearly. Though Cain knew that this particular tale wasn’t something that he’d ever enjoy disclosing to those unaware, there was still that morbid curiousity that drove the midnight haired muse down into the depths of Dormont. Unlike his usual white attire, the lithe gentleman sported mourning clothes, black as death, his mane tied back by amethyst lace. Yes, after this farce of a war, after watching so many die while his Resurrection timer continued to tick and tick and tick, Cain was feeling a bit too somber to be his boisterous, cheerful ‘normal’ self.

So the rank stench of the dungeon, the grim faced guards hoisting nightsticks and spears, the dimly flickering torches, they all…reminded him of that darker time. Back when they were imprisoned within the unclean hallways of Stokbon’s jail, sporting injuries that were not fully healed, while ring eyed guards stared impassively at them. Back when she was still alive. Back when he entertained thoughts of starting prison riots or blasting holes through places or generally being a good person by freeing everyone within the prisons. And now, here he was, on the other side of the spectrum, playing the ‘good cop’ to someone who definitely enjoyed being a bad one. Already, the howling screams that trailed down hallway was enough to grate the ears of the guards, and with a small, almost nervous smile, Cain saluted the pair before plunging into the very depths of the impromptu torture chamber.

In the dim lighting, his partner’s magic glowed maleficently, the malicious magenta light so similar, yet so different, from the purity of the arcane power that he himself wielded. There was a revulsion there, in the sweetness of her expression, the genuine joy exhibited by this sadistic tormentor wearing the skin of a ravishing beauty, but at the same time…this was to be expected. A sigh, a rolling of his eyes, and the muse strode over, his expression stony, his countenance callous.

“It’s little wonder Cessia made this interrogation session one that involved a party,” Cain said, offering the Caenis couple a glance, before turning his attention towards the purple haired queen. “I’d recommend not going overboard with your cruel tendencies, my lady. Though it must feel exhilarating to exert pain over those chained and…disarmed, if you push them too far, they’ll sing about anything they can think of, even if it’s just fiction. One doesn’t encourage obedience with the stick alone, after all. And pain to last an eternity…”

Cain smiled thinly, wondering how much of this was a façade and how much of it was his current self.

“…breaking their minds and turning them into invalids isn’t the end goal of an interrogation. Now, if you would excuse me…”

The midnight haired muse bowed, his fingers tapping a rhythm on the side of his leg as the most rudimentary form of music sought to soothe and cleanse the vestiges of phantom agony clinging upon the couple. He had heard, of course, that the Lion of Astorea was personally attending this question and answer session. It wouldn’t do for a noble like that to bear witness to such barbarity on the side of human players.

“Allow me to apologize for my partner’s overzealous behavior, you two. I’m Cain Darlite, a man of many titles that I believe inappropriate to be dispensing within the bowels of Dormont. As a man of healing, your current state of affairs does sicken me, but the King has his orders, and, alas, we can do nothing to help you if you remain uncompliant. King Astor is not a man that seeks vengeance against those bent under the will of a Tyrant Princess, nor does he seek to start another war after suffering two within the past year. Your tribes will not be attacked and enslaved. What we seek is to open up negotiations with such a powerful race only, and if you could provide a location, I will do all I can to free you from these shackles and revert all the deformities impressed upon your bodies.”

It was hard to smile in such a place, so he kept up a neutral expression instead.

“The war’s over now, and yesterday’s enemy is tomorrow’s friend. Let’s help each other out, yes?” Ah, now that smile came easily. “For your sake and mine, I’d rather not subject you to the mind-warping magics of our more…unrestricted mages.”
@Vivian Cruz @Alonso Thorlion @Comet

 

Enough was enough with the violence and hostile reactions from any side of this ordeal. The war had not been the sole thing to soothe all the savage beasts, and considering Alonso was of the beast man sort, his presence was suggested by Cessia to deal with a few of the Caenis who remained locked up. However, the woman seemed trouble upon being asked why a party was needed for a simple interrogation. The interviewees, to put it light, were not going to be in a position where an all out brawl was a good idea, and those allowed in the dungeons beyond the guards should have had a background check. What special circumstance was it that required back up?

Oh.

That was why.

Wide shoulders propelled with a just as massive girth, the Marquees rushing down the halls of the dungeon area to reach the cell. None of the guards felt it a good idea to stop what was otherwise a large bull who should not be allowed inside of a china shop. "Shit, shit, shit," the Felis said as we walked, the rhythm of his heart growing louder as he picked up speed. He did not know anybody from these canine tribes, yet political awareness meant getting the full story on their involvement. Regardless of the Felis's concerns, the Caenis still attacked Astorea, needing to be apprehended in some manner. Being late to the party once again was just another mark on his record.

Those screams just proved his concerns were founded on much unwanted ground. Catching sight of another person entering the interrogation room, Alonso glared at the guards, "Make sure we don't have an entire damn room of people involved, because this is already going to hell I'm sure you've noticed." The guards bowed, not wanting to disrespect a noble who had the nerves to come down here, allowing the cat man to rush into the torture room. Well, he did not want to fathom this place as torture of any kind. But what could he do about it? People were going to do what he or she wanted irregardless of how much he screamed.

Alonso recognized the muse from Eastwatch, one of the players doing a lot of buffing, the man with an uplifting voice settling the situation. Good. This allowed the bearish man to unleash a drawn out breath, giving the door behind him a gentle shut. Allowing his eyes to shift towards the purple haired lady, the smirk on her face indicated to Alonso that she was the one causing the shrieks of pain from before. Well, with the evidence at hand, at least. Sighing once more, the Marquees folded his arms over his chest, leaning his back against the wall to let one man's speech finish. None of those words Cain spoke of were false, which gave the bearish man an opportunity to give his two cents.

"And it's a good thing I'm here for the next part," he said, pushing himself off the wall and pacing towards the chained up wolf couple, "I am Marquees Alonso Thorlion, and general consensus, at least from the higher ups of the country, dictate to at least attempt to make peace to some degree. If that turns out not to be the case, then I can assure you I have no intentions of overstaying the power I have in regards to me title. Hell, in fact I sure do not condone any acts of torture for something as simple as asking questions and coming to a compromise." His eyes wavered towards Vivian, a warning shot to not try anything that will upset the mission.

"Look, if both of you agree to having a civil discussion, I can release your bindings now and have a proper table and chairs set up while I send for someone who can heal your wounds. I assume at least that can be agreeable," he continued, turning his gaze towards Cain for confirmation of any kind. Whether or not the party muse will agree altogether was another thing.

@Comet @Vivian Cruz @Cain Darlite

 

Remaining in a corner, arms crossed over her chest, a gasp escaped pursed lips in reaction to Vivian's methods; Comet certainly wasn't the type to use her advantage over prisoners as weapons, but instead chose words. Only during forms of combat or while hunting did she and would she ever draw her bow or attack another being. A greediness tainted her perspective on others; in fact, she despised the Caenis race. They were beneath her for all she knew but hardly deserved being tortured if the choice hadn't completely been theirs to follow Snefrid. A multitude of questions swirled about that weren't so simple that one could pluck them out of air and makes inquires regarding the topic. Softened azure eyes settled on the seemingly frightened, confused Caenis living in their own filth behind bars. Not at all on good terms with the race, gut churning with hatred towards those who attack Eastwatch during her latest battle, Comet's inner confusion had her stuck in the corner, as the ability to watch and listen attentively happened to be all she could provide with a looming presence. She politely awaited a chance to speak up and voice her opinions though anxiety plagued her nerves.

"Astorea has helped the Yladian out, haven't you been told this? A race also dominated. They could've still been, up until now, if Astoreans weren't at least a little considerate. If hosting refugees in the capital city to protect them from the enemy doesn't say anything, I don't know what else really would. Telling us about your homeland is vital to the security of your kind. What will happen if another Tyrant like Snefrid comes along and you never said a thing? You'd be forced to fight against your will again, probably, and no other Kingdom would be able to come to your aid - not knowing where you are - since you burned every bridge built for you," she'd waited her turn but remained calm. Passionate words laced with a near-worry for the prisoners filled the air. Though, truly Comet had a special place in her heart for the art of persuasion. Putting on an act of kindness or empathy or any other sort of genuine emotion to be expressed and seen: this happened to be extremely easy for the woman trained to be akin to a puppet worked by its hidden master. "we're here and... most of the people who say they need this private information from you - myself included - are welcoming the Caenis as best as possible! What are we supposed to do with suspicious tribes who were the ex-enemy in a deadly war? You and your kind were without a choice, and we are too. Think about that; it's all I ask." she finished off with an expression of sadness and concern. With a flip of the hair Comet decided to stand next to @Vivian Cruz but only to watch the woman and her actions. One wrong move and their prisoners could be thrown off enough to hold back everything they knew. Or, like @Cain Darlite had suggested, give out false, made-up knowledge out of a fear.

Unfortunately it seemed there were contrasting methods of completing Cessia's orders in mind. But with such an agreeable group, especially with @Alonso Thorlion's intimidating figure yet caring words, the pink-haired woman only worried about failure of the mission and how much shame it would bring to her heart. Though she would enjoy being the one in charge it had been made she would not be and could not be a leader. Especially in the presence of a Noble and high-uppers skill-wise. Whatever happened Comet would feel inclined to follow no matter how much she provided subtle protest: the only form of aggression her disciplined self would allow.

 

It made her stomach churn. These fools were more sympathetic to the beasts than she was. Her only goal was to motivate them to speak, sometimes fear was a necessary evil. Sometimes going as far as torture. Paining one to speak for the other, it was a simple enough take on the situation. Vivian's hand hovered over the male caenis, but she was stopped short when the others had begun their own form of interrogation. She simply shrugged, only giving the pair a glaring eyes that would have otherwise sucked them dry for the truth. Even if they could not speak, she could still pull the truth from their minds. It would not be difficult for the malefimancer to do such things. Dark Magic was Dark Magic after all.

So, she folded her arms and backed away to let the others have a go. Taking a more diplomatic and friendly route. Even going as far as saying they could be released. The woman chuckled under her breath and shook her head, the long curls of her purple hair flowing from her backside. Her look remained on the two of them as they were questioned.

"By all means, if you have another way of going about this..." She looked to them offering their take. The woman, Vivian, was more hands on. Even if she was brutal, torture was still a viable option. But knowing this Burly Beast, she might be on bad terms with the rest of them now. But she cared little for their opinions. She had her methods, why in the world would they come to this very cell when there were possibly dozen others to question.

Vivian's glare had subsided. The caenis feared the witch, because of her dark magic. The use of using that on them, the pain they had felt moments before. It confused them heavily. What on earth were they trying to do here? First pain, then diplomatic reasoning, and now they were being requested to being unbound and given proper seating? And then a gentle heart to heart talk. It was as disturbing as Vivian had expected.

This was a crew with wide and varied tastes on going about this. She might have been cruel, but her nature was that of being cruel. You can't simply allow talking to be your tool or being diplomatic. They could sell things short and even give false words as well. Anything could happen and they were playing to the disadvantage.

"Ugh! Enough of this god damn bullshit!" Vivian raged, her right hand flew as if a banshee coming in for the attack. A maleficent glow of purple radiated around her hand as she placed it upon the skull of the nearest caenis. Through the muck and blood of their head, the woman began to curse the Beast, causing his will to suffer from the spoken words from her mouth. His body slackened in his chains, his arms growing limp before his eyes became soulless.

"There. No pain. What do you say you Mongrel?"

"Thank you, Mistress..."

"Damn right. Now you are going to tell us everything you know of your people's tribes and their locations. You will not forget one detail as insignificant as it is." The woman kept her hand on the beast's head, "If you three can't stomach this, then go seek some other prisoners of your own. These two are mine...and I will harvest the information my way. But I will not let this opportunity slip because someone wants to play the Nice Guy. They are our prisoners. They need to remember who the superior is here. If the shoe were on the other foot, we would have been enslaved just like this and who knows what worse conditions we would have been." Her voice was poisonous and fork tongued. She had been working these two without the other's help.

No, she would do this her way, she would milk the information bone dry until there was nothing left to give.

"Please! Stop that mad woman! What have you done to him!? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM!???" the other cried out, Vivian looked to the female caenis and only smiled, her eyes glowing vehemently. To the others she may be the devil, but these creatures were inferior beings. They were dogs to be whipped.

(OOC: I am giving permission to the next person in line to physically stop Vivian in any way necessary if you so wish without causing death of course.) @Cain Darlite | @Alonso Thorlion | @Comet

 

Was it out of relief or out of disappointment that Cain’s shoulders sagged in the pacifying presence of the muscled Marquees, whose presence was not diminished despite the fact that he was neither drenched in the blood of his foes nor howling in bestial rage? The midnight haired muse wasn’t certain, but if nothing else, those words aligned with his own. The blue haired Felis was a ‘good’ person, at least, one that did not condone the torture of virtual entities within an illegal game. Maybe all veterans eventually accepted the NPCs of Terrasphere as living beings? Or maybe after a war as bloody as this, they were simply tired of seeing even more pain and suffering stacked upon anyone, even prisoners of war.

Astorea wasn’t Guantanamo Bay, after all. No one was going to be waterboarding anyone here. A small sigh escaped Cain’s lips as he took a step back, simply nodding his assent as he continued to tap a simple beat into the dank walls. Subtle healing magic joined up, as the midnight haired Muse watched the verbal lynching that was taking place, the pink haired Comet joining in on the conversation in a decidedly different way. Well, it was only right for her to consider the more important factors at play here, he supposed, that of actually convincing the imprisoned Caenis to speak up, recalling the kindness the nation of Astorea had on other races before, of the benefits of being allied to a Kingdom even as a race of rabid mercenary troops. All good words. All good opportunities.

But Cain understood the glint in that violet haired woman’s eyes, that cruelty and that fury, the unrestrained madness that one could only truly revel in when they hid behind a virtual persona. Recall, the savage delight of devouring a heart. The joy of bordering death with legs turned to pulp. The emotional high of every dark and dastardly crime he committed before. Ah, he could understand all that, but as her countenance darkened, an outstretched hand tearing at the very mind of the bound Caenis, the midnight haired muse moved regardless, his arcane veins roaring to life as the subtle magic he once wove turned into a torrent of musical energy. A dissonant melody screeched painfully through the dungeon as his nails scraped lovingly against the rusted iron bars of the cells, the entire prison becoming his instrument as he wove his counterspell. Back in the foul, death-drenched prison beneath Stokbon, he had cast such magics as well, to neutralize the mind warping influence of an Artifact alongside Ilusa and Surrechis.

Compared to the Birthright of the King? The Malefimancer’s mind distortions were torn apart much more easily, the purple light that radiated from her palm sputtering out like a flame without a source, a light bulb with a damaged circuit. The light returned to the eyes of the Caenis male, before he suddenly took in a long, sucking breath, the fear in his eyes palatable as he opened and closed, unable to find the words to even exclaim about such a horrid experience. Almost looked like a fish out of water.

Hah. That made Cain break out into a smile, even as his fingers continued to seesaw up and down the iron bars, all other magical evocations continually disrupted. Within his inventory, the Ivory Reminiscence resonated, but this was neither the place nor time to pull out his master-craft flagpole.

“Not let an opportunity slip past?” the muse smiled, unbothered by the horrid racket, “What, is this your first venture down in these dungeons? Have you finally found a suitable place in which to exercise your deviant tendencies, my lady? And we’ve already demonstrated our superiority, haven’t we? From winning the war to slaying the Tyrant that stomped down on their backs to simply being immortal heroes immune to pain and dismemberment. Violence only begets further violence, after all, and karma…karmic justice is certainly something that exists in as fantastical a world as this. So please, mistress, consider that before dirtying yourself further with such malicious deeds.”

A pause, an afterthought, a mirthless smile.

“Ah, I do apologize for being the Fun Police, but please recall. Even if you do get your kicks out of stomping on the defeated and traumatizing other people, please remember that this isn't your own private garden. Try not to air your kinks out in the public, okay?"

Ah, immortality was truly a pain. Even if he blasted her to kingdom come, that wouldn't stop her from coming back for more BDSM sessions, huh?
@Alonso Thorlion @Comet @Vivian Cruz

 

Diplomacy, good, that was good. Most of the gathered interrogators were more than willing to cooperate overall. Except for the purple haired lady, it seemed. Alonso was not the sort of person to one hundred percent judge a book by its cover, though he still has biases, but the mood she was giving off felt way too sinister. Of course this was going to be another moment of hesitation. Insisting on placing his focus towards the violet haired chick's presence meant he was going to do nothing more than berate her. Showing more inner party turmoil before these Caenis was not going to bode well towards making them as cooperative as possible. Not one thing nowadays was simple.

Just as the big Felis wandered into his thoughts did the chaos erupt once more. That damned Malefimancer just had to have her way. The ever hostile growl within the noble's throat elevated its tone, right on the verge of a roar. If it were not for the music maker who more than proved this was not his first rodeo, Alonso might have started a fight down here that might have ended up in a player versus player match. Regardless of political circumstance, having a mark on his or her head was not the beneficial way to play the game. Even it it were for a good cause, never had the middle aged brawler seen player killers looked upon in positive reputation.

"Perhaps I should also make clear," Alonso began, keeping his narrowed eyes on the witch, "This country is not ruled by you, and you do not make the laws here. As far as I'm concerned, unless King Astor says otherwise, we are not tormenting these two unless they try and make a break for it. Self defense I can forgive, and quite frankly whether or not they would have tortured us doesn't fucking matter now considering it's over with. You already made your demands clear irregardless, and we don't need misinformation by way of them saying anything to be free of the pain."

Sighing, a moment of silence rang by to recollect proper thoughts. Everything was under control, nothing to worry about for no reason. Pacing the border of the room for a moment helped center the significant parts of this persuasion. Walking towards the female Caenis, the Marquees placed a hand on her shoulder, "Look, I apologize for the rash choices some of our... acquaintances have around here. I can't say we're any better than some of the more hostile allies you may not agree with on your end. Again all you need to do is speak calmly so we gather the information needed. Breathe a moment if need be." Standing to his monstrous height, the man wandered towards the cell door a moment.

"Don't suppose there's a proper interrogation room somewhere," the giant cat man said to one of the guards outside, peeking his head through as to not reveal the current mess going on behind him. The faster they got through with this, the better off everyone will be. Maybe.

@Vivian Cruz | @Cain Darlite | @Comet

((OMG I'm so sorry I took that long. My sleep patterns have been kinda messed as of late, so my focus is off. >> ))

 

@Vivian Cruz influence over others and an aura to be desired proved to be quite admirable. Or so Comet had felt before she discovered the real Vivian - and it took such a situation to be presented with dishonorable acts for the fun it brought the Malefimancer. She felt disgusted, glaring in the purple-haired woman's direction who's figure formed from that of beauty to that of a vile wolf in sheep's clothing. "You know you have no power here so you fall back to corruption using magic," the pink-haired woman retaliated while stepping towards Vivian to lay a hand on the woman's shoulder, gripping tightly. "So charming at first, but when you can't get what you want you turn into a child," these words scared Comet to mutter, especially with the deep tone lacing them, but at the same time her persistence paired with a quick mind wouldn't allow her to take them back nor apologize. They were true to her feelings despite the churning of a nervous gut and disappointed mind that could barely comprehend how another could so effortlessly turn formerly sweet opinions into such hateful ones when even in the outside world Comet surrounded herself with ruthless monsters who would've done exactly the same.

@Cain Darlite's words brought a slight curl of the lips though at the moment, smiling wasn't an action she was trying to do. The tensions were too high and not an ounce of her wanted to seem as if the torture and pained cries and argument happened to be at all interesting or enjoyable. Especially since methods of acting to get close to just about anyone - enemy or stranger or friend - were her preferred method as well as diplomacy to support how these two prisoners would see the Kingdom in the future. In fact, with every passing second the Caenis became a race that Comet couldn't imagine without an unfair torment etched within their souls. They deserved fair refuge and protection, if only the two prisoners could take these views from her mind and see for themselves how she felt. More so for the benefit of Astorea gaining allies and earning valuable information that now intrigued her. Not that a bit of sympathy lay within her heart; the well-being of the two Caenis before her was clearly worried about. Maybe trust still had a chance to be forged out of what little had been created thus far. "Cessia said in any way possible, but there are a Hell of a lot more options that come before torture. Especially if it's just for fun: to pick on the weak," the pink-haired woman glared in Vivian's direction. "and not to gain trust where it's needed the most." she commented after the Noble spoke, turned to @Alonso Thorlion to avoid the rest whom she couldn't rely on as much to remain purely diplomatic or to have a more comforting way with words. "This way, you're kind of seeing how the majority support the Caenis while there's only a small amount of people who would go against a helpless race. Let's keep it real. It'll take time to change the views of everyone after the war, that's only natural; but there'll be no hesitation, I'm sure, if you give us what we need, to send support and help and supplies to your tribes whenever those things are needed."

@Asch

 

The shrill noise seem to rape her auditory senses as her magic fizzled from her finger tips. The woman scowled at The Muse as his weird horric chords of magic had canceled her out. He must have been quite the practioner if it could null out her dominating mind enchantment from this lowly beast. It had been enough to rouse the Caenis from his obediant trance. However, the dark gentlemen before her was not the only one with quick words to snap at the witch.

Lips curved as the two others had an opinion equal to his own. Despite all their talk, Vivian was the only one doing any work here. The others just stood by, being passive pussies, as she set out what was supposed to be done.

Her violet specked eyes looked at all three of them, giving them a hissing glare as the female dog began to bark or in this case plea to them. Sh had seen enough torture and just wanted it to end for her beloved. When the information was given, Vivian laughed and clapped her hands.

"Aww! Aren't you both good little doggies!? See? With enough persuasion, you can make any bird chirp and sing. Even teaching a dog a new trick!" As she gestured to the two broken down Caenis. With the information revealed, she gave a rather devious look to Comet and moved towards her. The woman brought herself close enough to bring their bodies together. Her arm was up and raised so she could not escape her eye unless Vivian would let her.

"Listen little Bitch. I do not like to be talked down to or being accused of being a child. I did a job, I made the decision to act and I got the results. How you do things on your time in no concern to me. You want to treat them as people instead of prisoners? Be my guest but only on your time. You better not threaten me again with insults..." The woman let her hand drop to her side, only to give the woman a curious glare. Her tongue moved from her mouth as it licked the air at her, the hand that disappeared touched Comet's thigh..."or else..."

With that over with, she flicked hair off hr shoulder and moved out of the prison cell with the others giving them a heated glare. Outside the cell the woman flaunted her hips, a smile returned to her thick lips as she moved towards the guards and explained what information was given. And with the, Vivian had once more done a service to Astorea. They should be greatful.

 

Romantic. Touching. But in the end…

So they only amounted to that much.

There was a flicker of disappointment on Cain’s face as the Caenis couple broke under the pressure of further torment, under the irreplaceable value of their own relationship with each other. Had that witch realized that as well? Or was she just lucky that neither of them held a resolve to protect the secrets of their tribe even in the face of death? It didn’t matter, then, as the female spoke those words, of the village within the valley, hidden by great, hardy evergreens. The midnight haired muse let a sigh through his nose, his nails retracting from the rusty bars, red dust flicked out beneath his fingernails. All those words, all those promises, made pointless by vicious brutality. For a moment, his dark eyes crossed Alonso’s, as if judging how much he could get away with in this secretive space where screams and violence wouldn’t be out of the ordinary.

But the curse and blessing of an adventuring soul was that of unconditional immortality, negating the threat of death. And there was no status debuff that could perpetually maintain itself, were there? No infinite petrification, no unlimited banishment, nothing cute and cruel like that. So he let it go, fairly easily, Vivian’s words rolling off his skin like mistborn droplets, the Caenis’s curses and oaths dissipating like dewdrops in daybreak. All those promises, all that effort to work past that terrible first impression, and yet, mutual loathing budded from bloodied soil regardless, thorns that infected the soul with gangrenous grudges.

He let that go as well. He was just an adventurer. Just here for an experience. Not someone in charge of the flaming pile of garbage that was Astorea, nor someone who held any title in its court. A nation without real rules of conduct and methods of punishment was pointless, after all.

Did the Lion understand that? Or was he just someone who was pulled into this position with no real grasp on how to lead? It truly was a pity that King Theo had lost his mind. The nobles of Astorea have demonstrated themselves to be much more adept as generals than lawmakers and enforcers, from what he had seen. If they were to leave the boring parts of governance to NPCs, wouldn’t they be free to do whatever they desired, without having to worry about the moral dilemma of letting sadistic bitches proclaim themselves as Astoreans?

More thoughts. More things to let go. Cain was best on an individual level. A faceless nation had less value to him than a dear friend. And all these people…

…he didn’t know a single one of them. Not truly.

A spark of amethyst brilliance lit up the darkness, but Cain snuffed it out after a second thought. Neither judge, nor jury, nor executioner. Just a Flagbearer, of beliefs too dazzling for this decrepit dungeon, chasing legends that would not be birthed within this cesspool of shattered wills.

“I’ll be taking my leave too, Duke Alonso, Comet,” the man spoke, “I’ve done enough healing to ensure neither of them would die from infection or disease, and this atmosphere is somewhat…irritating. For future reference, please ensure your King understands that a fictional world is no excuse for allowing crimes against humanity to go unpunished, especially when Astorea was born to shelter the oppressed.”

An almost pained smile crossed his features, but by then, Cain had already turned around, seeking fresh air.

“These types aren’t an insignificant minority, after all.”

 

Comet prepared herself to leave with a disappointment in herself and others. Sympathy washed over her often selfish heart, for the Caenis who couldn't help their situation much, which happened to be a rare feeling for the pink-haired woman more confused by her newfound views than the mysterious race and their origins yet to be uncovered. Hopefully the job had been completed and the information given rang true. At least then she could be decently satisfied by completing what Cessia asked of. Even if the results were unsatisfactory due to the way they were so awfully derived.

Stiffening, Comet accepted Vivian's verbal abuse with a strong gut. She'd met women and men alike who acted out the same way. Perhaps not so physically or intense or spontaneously, but dealing with the situation proved nearly effortless. Of course seeing her ex-idol this way had quite an effect on the young woman who had to deal with further shame in who she once saw as beautiful and what she once saw as fair. The gaze held between the two melted the barriers that Comet set up for herself as a form of protection. How Vivian could pull this off, she hardly knew. Escaping would be a futile effort, and too much work, so with an equally heavy stare she listened politely. Much like with Eileen her words would not be taken back. Though this time around the woman before her wouldn't be deemed a potential friend but rather a force not to be met with again if possible. Last time Comet promised herself this sort of thing, though, the man she despised continued to bump shoulders with her. Fate cared little for her, she decided, and so some place in her heart urged the young woman to be prepared for another encounter with the purple-haired vixen. The touch, the movements, the looks; they mesmerized Comet until Vivian made her way out. A tingling sensation spread from where she'd been touched as a faint blush coated her cheeks.

Picking up what dignity happened to be left lying on the ground, the Archer left with another mission completed and a deep regret for agreeing to join a group of strangers regarding such a sensitive, questioning topic.