Captured

[Forsaken]

Somriad guides the marred hand down to his chest, tracing the wounded finger reverently across his jawline. As he directs the firmly grasped limb along the length of his neck, the inner robe seems to wither and flake off in muted blue wisps that float gently to the ground at his feet like the damaged petals of a poisoned rose. He is now left in the decorative outer silk robe, with it's scrolling white flourishes embroidered against cloth of iridescent sapphire blue, and gently-billowing silk drawstring pants of a once immaculate white that has now been patterned with drops of blood. His chest now exposed, he allows her hand to rest just over his heart as brilliant red streams trickled and gleamed against skin that was nearly as pale as the white silk it vanished under. Now, he occupies his free hand with the delicate retrieval of the fingertip from his mouth. It is in his grasp with a graceful pluck of his fingers and free with a majestic flourish of the hand that casually casts it to the side, as though it were merely the pit of a delectable fruit.

All the while, he would have kept his gaze upon the rebel, whose tormented shaking and stifled scream were yet another flourish upon a wonderful morning. And so it is now that he sees her dark eyes shift to gold and completely dismisses her shaky insult in light of a more important, if perhaps less voluntary, show of defiance.

His tendency toward cruelty had only been toying with her before, but with this Loup Garou challenge to his Guardian's power he could feel it condense in him with cold intensity. The time for leisurely pleasure had passed. The game, however, was far from over.

Now his eyes glittered sharply, as though composed of myriad glass points inter-linked with steal blades, and all charm in his countenance had been chased away by the savage delight that now transformed his expression as he gazed upon her.

The guided hand and it's streams of blood trailed lower across the sculpted abdomen. Crimson liquid trickled from the corners of his lips as they smiled icily. His remaining hand slipped deftly beneath her clothes to slip, for now, between her shoulder blades as his firm body slipped possessively against hers. Brushing his mouth against her ear, he whispers "First I will ravage your body. Then I will plunder your mind. In the end, I will have everything and you will be left without a thought to console you and only flame to claim you."

[The Imfamous AKA]

The faint shudder of violently surpressed shock aftereffects ripples across her body, but other than that, she is still and seemingly unreactive as he manipulates her completely limp hand. Her faintly glowing eyes flicker towards her flying fingertip before returning to his. Rather than the previous shows of insolence, her gaze has lost its defiant edge and seems empty and hard. But other than the faint shivers traveling through her body and that one tiny glance, she doesn't move.

Sensing the change in his demeanor before he acts upon it, her back tightens, halting the shivering effectively. But as his hand brushes across the expanse of her back, gliding over the fine lines of carefully carved scars of years long past, the faintest shiver follows the lines traced by his hand until her entire torso flinches as his hand settles between her shoulderblades, resting upon the thickest of the scars that traces down her spine.

From her vantage point beside his ear, she whispers in response, "You... Can... Try..."

[Forsaken]

He nods his head in patronizing acknowledgment of yet another rebellious statement, answering even though her words had only managed to digress in value. "I appreciate the thought, ma petite louve, but your permission has no worth." He murmurs the words softly, a misleading habit that proceeded the cruelest of his intentions. Her hand, traveling ever lower under his guidance, had now slipped under the stained-crimson hem of the white silk that poured gracefully into cascading sheaths about his legs. Her blood, proceeding the hand in glimmering streams that trickled down his abdomen, curled in a warm, liquid caress past his groin; this brush with lost vitality on her part feeding virility on his. However, he had arrested the forced movement of her hand just beyond the line of the stained silk, allowing only the caress of her life's fluid. It was all he demanded. So little, so much.

With his other hand, he explored the subtle ridges of the scarring along her back. "What do we have here..." He pondered in that same soft voice. Sliding a cool hand across her shoulders he removed the jacket from her form, aided by the undulating chains that managed to help yet never hinder. First twisting subtly further up her arm, now chasing the sleeves down her arms in clever coils. The jacket collapsed upon the ground with a soft rush, leaving still a long-sleeved black sweater to remove. His smile, that unpleasant up-turned twist at the corners of his lips, only deepened.

[The Imfamous AKA]

It takes all Rena's willpower to keep her hand slack, fighting the almost irrepressible urge to tense and scratch violently against his skin. But the last violent response she gave ended in a hint of unneeded pain in the longer, increasingly painful, course of things. The force of will she was exerting was only highlighting the tembling in her arm as he manipulated her, even as her teeth clenched in response to his question.

Her eyes shut for a moment, trying to steady herself against the pain, before she manages to hiss past her teeth and the shuddering, "Auribus tenat lumpum." Her eyes snap back open as her entire body once more shies away from him instinctively, her shoulderblades meeting behind her.

[Seven]

Desire's sweet face seemed contorted with the current frown in which it was wearing now. Really, playing messenger boy to an eccentric he felt was beneath him, the disgrace! Of course, it would be out of the question for said eccentric to try to enter himself. Not only would be not have the "key" to open a door Somriad locked in the penitentiary, but with Somriad in such a mood, well...

Not that he worried significantly about interrupting Somriad. Though an interruption might have left a mark on lower person, he was considered amongst Somriad's closest acquaintances, and surely the good man would realize had very little desire to ruin his companion's fun. But affairs of the state called since apparently someone found a potential spy.

And who knows, perhaps after business, Desire would be invited to join in or watch.

Desire puts his hand over the lock of the door, allowing it to click open, and he enters with his usual serene smile, not at the least blinking an eye at the violent molestation taking place in the chamber. He greets Somriad as if speaking of a particularly nice day in spring.

"My Pardon, dear Friend, to interrupt, but it seems our dear Prometheus has had an interesting find fall in through his ceiling." He was wiser than to go into details before an enemy, though none ever really escaped from here. His quaint smile widens and flickers softly, like a kind relative when he looks in Rena's direction. "But it seems like you found something quite interesting as well, no? She seems to be a spirited one."

[The Imfamous AKA]

Her mind may be on the verge of shutting down, but her thief's reflexes are still in full working order, so Rena immediately jerks her head to the new Guardian. As he speaks, more prominently when in relationship to her, a snarl grows on her face baring her fully enlongated canine teeth. The slight break in the intimidation and pain has momentarily returned her sarcasism. "Wonderful. More scum. Come to give your dear friend a break from the tedious task of breaking a Rebel?"

[Forsaken]

Somriad's eyes were flickering brightly with amusement at his victim's line (grabbing a wolf by the ears, indeed) while both his free arm and the chains at his command were slowly peeling off the next layer of clothing. There had been such luxurious pause in the movements, that wonderful tingling brush of warmth felt only when skin brushed slowly against a helpless victim's skin...

His eyes had narrowed with an unspoken hunger whose silence only empowered it's intensity.

When Desire interrupted him, rage would have a moment to burn darkly in his gaze. A lesser Guardian would have left this prison regretting his interruption, but Somriad knew the value of a powerful ally. So of course Desire was granted immunity to such illogical fury.

"She is a rare prize," He said with friendly nonchalance in response to Desire, even though it had been his victim that had answered first. While he spoke, he continued to confront her gaze with eyes still tinted dark by frustration. Abruptly releasing the hand he held pressed to his lower abdomen, he lifted it to deftly brush his thumb across one of her extended fangs. A playful touch that expressed utter lack of fear. Releasing a sigh of regret, he stepped away from her so that he may acknowledge Desire as the Guardian deserved. The chains, however, held their place.

"Is this find worth the trouble, my friend?" The words held a slight note of irritation, but the sentiment seemed one shared between them, as though Somriad knew that Desire would understand fully his disdain for having been interrupted from such exciting sport to inspect a find of Prometheus'. His gaze now shifted in it's constant, perpetually-changing pattern that betrayed nothing because it showed too much.

[The Imfamous AKA]

With her reflexes still at full attention through the pain, Rena opens her mouth a but further and lunges at the thumb as it brushes against her teeth, more by instinct at the mocking gesture than by any conscious decision. Hoever, the motion is cut short as the snap aburptly becomes a sharp gasp halfway though the motion: her body had curled in on itself as much as much as the chain would allow, including the instictive motion of pressing the tip of her injured finger into her palm.

She lets out a faint sob at the immediate onset of the agony caused by the simple gesture, body frozen once more as her hand lcoks into place. Her eyes glaze over momentarily as her body tries to cope with this now, self-imposed pain that the tiny part of her brain left with any logic insists is necessary if the bleeding is to stop. But now every inch of her body is on high alert as the faint tremors of shock begin once more as her enter body betrays her again.

Everything but her eyes, of course. The glazed over, dead quality only flashes in her eyes for a moment before they fix back on Somriad with pure and unadulterated loathing.

[Seven]

The first time Rena spoke, Desire did not bother to give the girl the pleasure of hearing him speak. Besides, he knew that Somriad would be enjoying this much too much to even suggest an idea such as a break. Though her mention of it did seem amusing...

And from this amusement stemmed a bit of a brighter smile as he spoke to Somriad. "I can see," he replied when Somriad spoke of her as a prize. And as she crippled he looked to her with a cross of kindness and of more amusement, though he continued to speak to Somriad only, "It seems you are doing a wonderful job with this one as well." He tore his eyes away from her bleeding form to return his steady gaze to his friend. "Of course, no less is expected from the genius and master of our people. It is a shame for me though. It makes giving any sort of congratulations to you sound meaningless and trivial," he said in a light, almost joking manner. He could only envy such power and status.

"As for the find, it seems to be a useful one, but regardless of that Prometheus was a tad insistant on finding you," he rolls his eyes a little with his casual smile and slight shrug of the shoulders that left some of his hair to cascade over his shoulders. "In any case, it is something that should be discussed further in...private," he said, glancing back at Rena momentarily.

[Forsaken]

Somriad inclined his head in acknowledgement of Desire's compliments. "She has been a most rewarding victim thus far." His voice, though calm and even, still managed to possess it's charismatic strength and energy. "It is because of beings like her that I so thoroughly enjoy what I do." He chuckled fondly, gazing back at the drooping rebel with a joyous light in his treacherous gaze. I have only just begun with you, ma petite louve. Do you recognize now what is in store for you? Can you appreciate the inevitable invasion of mind that is soon to occur?

So much of the emotion that accompanied such thoughts flickered through his eloquent eyes, but the language of a soul such as his was difficult to interpret. The only thing that could be plainly noted was his desire to return and continue where he had left off.

His gaze returned to Desire. "Now, since this find of Prometheus' is a matter of such urgency, we will discuss it before the lapsing of time can sink talons of impatience into the uneasy mind he possesses. I will return to this task at a later moment." He waits for Desire to respond and lead the way out of the cell before he will allow the chains to fall.

[Seven]

Desire politely tilts his head down in a bow, his right hand crossing over his heart. Even for a man who is considered Somriad's closest friend, he could not show any sign of disrespect. Friendship, after all, did not mean much in comparison to status. That, and not so ironically, it was status that had forged a friendship to begin with. But Desire's position was not so lowly either that to spur his bow to be exceedingly deep, as Thrasymachus' would have had to been, just an artful, almost light and playful gesture, as the soft line of Desire's lips thinned into a smile.

"Yes, thank you," the fairfax-haired Guardian responded, his words brief but his tone still portraying ease which made him sound eloquent. The smile on his lips suggested that Somriad was doing him a great favor, as he would no longer have to put up with such a nuisance alone. He casually rolled himself back up into an erect position. Seeing that prisoner was still secure, Desire strolled ahead of Somriad to open the door, exiting and holding the door out as he awaited Somriad to follow him out before shutting it once more.

[Forsaken]

Somriad follows Desire out of the cell, acknowledging his respectful gesture with a slight nod as he passes through the doorway. He waits for the cell door to close behind him before glancing back, gracing his newest plaything with his most charming, courtly smile. As though undone by the expression, the chains that held their captive stolidly suspended only a minute ago abruptly withered into dust, spilling Rena onto the cold stone of the cell floor.

Then he drifts down the line of cells, vanishing from her sight. He does not acknowledge his departure, for it is only fleeting. In essence his is simply turning away, his attention briefly drawn to an urgent matter of business, and will soon set his gaze upon her again. She has been granted only the shortest of reprieves, a fleeting distraction on his part, that will end before she can even catch her breath.

[The Imfamous AKA]

Rena hit the floor with a faint yelp, her bruised and battered body crumpling into a haphazard pile on the stone. She shook with the forced effort of restraining her pain, her finger still pressed into her palm desperately. After a moment, a long moment, an eternal moment, she twitched toward her forgotten, damanged trenchcoat on the floor inches away. She would need contact with the stone eventually, the stone that must connect to the earth somewhere, but for now, it would simply leech the warmth from her body, leaving ehr drained even more than she was now.

It took quite a bit of effort for her to wrap herself in the heavy material, but once she was sufficiently covered, she turned her waning attention to her hand. The other cuts and wounds on her body were superficial, still covered enough by clothing that they would not cause immediate problems. But this wound, left by her destroyed digit, hit bone. Skin infection--should she live that long--was easy to remedy. Bone infection was not. Responding as though she would live through the ordeal, though she knew she wouldn't, she had to cover it, minimize the exposure of the bone to air, minimize the chance of a painful bone infection. So, moving her thick sweater up (the knit fabric would be no help), she quickly tore a long strip of her undershirt away with her good hand. Working as quickly as she could with one hand and shock still tinging her system, she tightly tied the cloth around her finger, staunching the still-flowing blood and curb the spasms moving up her arm.

As satsified as she could be for the moment, Rena curled herself up in her jacket to wait for the bastard's inevitable return. For now, she would rest. She could worry about everything else later...


As the determined rebel wolf patched herself up, a new, familiar presence wove it's way through the labrynithine corridors of the Penitentiary. The pain-maddened inmates could mistake the drifting figure for a ghost, so pale was her skin, her eyes, her hair, her clothes. But those who had dealt with this particular Gaurdian knew the truth: this was no harmless ghost. This was the demon whose smile haunted the nightmares of the weak, and whose methods earned the horror of the strong. But for now, her placid smile was in place as she approached her superior.

"A thousand pardons, Somriad," Ethinae greeted quietly. Her demeanor and expression were emotionless, almost a blank slate as she awaited orders--or permission. "But before you run off, I had a question."

Her head tilted faintly to the side, her salt-white locks trailing along the snow white cloth of her gown. "I, as everyone has, heard about the new Resistance fighters currently gracing the cells with their presence. I thought I should ask if my assistance would be useful... or accepted..."

[Forsaken]

Ethinae's arrival was certainly appreciated by the Cavyrn's Amplus Magister. He turns to face this unassuming wraith of Guardians with a genuinely grateful smile. He listen's attentively as she speaks, his smile broadening and the shadowed pools that were his eyes gained warmth. He was actually quite fond of Ethinae. Peculiar as she may be in appearance, she presented the Cavyrn with little trouble and had a charming knack for showing up in Styxx penitentiary whenever she is needed.

Somriad's voice is warm when he speaks. "Yes, Ethinae, your assistance would be of great use to me. I seem to have much to take care of today, and the young male rebel has been neglected for an unforgivable period of time. I would be much obliged if you would interview him for me." As kindly as his order was phrased, it was clear to those who listened that he proposed a far more painful event than a mere conversation.

[The Imfamous AKA]

She bows her head, her hair sliding down to cover her face in a humble gesture. "It would be a pleasure," she replies gratefully. "It has been quite some time since I have had the chance to question a new inmate, and I fear I was beginning to get a bit... rusty." The admission is, of course, unfounded, but it amply described her pleasure at the task. She doesn't bother to ask where the new prisoner is, knowing that he must be in the wing furthest from where they stand. He will be easy enough to find. After all, the taste of desperation and defiance are very different than hopelessness and the death of spirit.

"I will take my leave then, unless there is anything else I can help you with?" she asks quietly, her eyes landing on his.