#but i was wearing green + my claws out converse so. warranted

[anna-scribbles]

was told today by a child that i look like “adrien but if he was a girl” and i WILL be riding that high for the rest of my life

[13atoms]

An Artifice in Silver - Part Two

A/N - Part 1 was the angsty part of the challenge, written by @wonders-of-the-multiverse, so read that first!! It’s amazing!

Here’s my attempt to make the ending to this fic fluffy.

WARNINGS - Some death and Cyberman conversion are mentioned.

PAIRINGS: Dhawan!Master x Reader

WORD COUNT: 10,323 words

Part One | Part Two

Part Two: A Trap

It felt your though your head had only just collided with the ground when you were shaken awake. Your body been moved, swept awkwardly aside as you slept, clearing a path to the rest of the collapsed crowd from the door. Your head and limbs ached from the hard concrete of the ground, the air no longer green with smoke as you squinted to try and make out the people in the rest of the chamber.

All still human.

A few of them were moving, while others were out cold. You could only hope those nearer the epicentre of the gas being released were simply unconscious, their ragdoll bodies making you wince as they were shaken, loved ones and strangers alike desperately trying to wake them from their unnatural sleep. You could see the horror on the survivors’ faces as they picked over the group, struggling to regain movement in their own aching limbs even as that human instinct to help kicked in. Everyone looked worse for wear.

Motionless Cyber units now stood centurion around the room’s locked doors, terrifying even in their stillness. They appeared to be without instruction, frozen in place, but very much still functional. What was wrong with them? You knew the answer. Your mind drifted back to The Master.

Where the hell was he?

How could he do this to you?

To any one of these people?

A stranger filled your vision, and you felt panic surging through you instantly, heart pumping enough adrenaline to power your chemically-weakened muscles.

“You alright?”

The woman had the authority and certainty of a someone medically trained, a kindness in her eyes even through her fear. She grabbed at your shoulders, checking your vital signs, moving her hands to watch if your eyes tracked them. You groaned. It was all too much, too intense, and you tried not to see rude as you flinched away.

“I’m fine thanks,” you dismissed, peering past her.

You couldn’t take your eyes off the sheer number of people in here.

With a nod she scurried away, back to the rest of the room. They had no idea what was happening, peering up in fear at the frozen metallic claws, at the empty faces of the Cybermen.

You had been so close becoming that. Rotting flesh, trapped inside of a walking tombstone, at the whim of the hivemind which controlled these creatures. You shivered, noticing one frozen in place a few metres behind where the Master had been. They must have encroached on the halted conversion room whilst you’d been asleep, creeping in like demons in the night. Fear gripped you at the idea of those monsters stepping over your unconscious, unguarded body, preserving your form only for its use to them as a puppet.

Since you’d taken those casings apart, you’d been terrified of them. Of the fate which befell those trapped inside, stripped of their humanity. None of those people inside were any more or less worthy of life than you, no one had saved them. They were undead, beyond saving but not yet released from life.

You shuddered.

Your legs continued to shake as you clambered to your feet, tiptoeing closer to one of the Cybermen, expecting it to jump back to life any moment. One question wouldn’t leave your mind: Why were you still human?

You suspected the Master’s involvement but, from the devastation on his face as the gas descended, perhaps he hadn’t had as much influence as you’d thought. With another glance back at the door, you reminded yourself that your worst fears had been realised: he was still gone. Only a frozen monster in an otherwise empty corridor loomed back at you, still locked away by the thick doors which had separated you from him.

They must have closed again after Cybermen entered the chamber, and you knew you couldn’t open them. Cybermen were far too methodical to allow your escape.

Nothing added up. Especially that you were alive without The Master’s involvement.

Had he left on purpose? Assumed you dead? Given up on you?

You couldn’t bear to think about the worst case scenario: that he wouldn’t come back for you. Was he already running, a million lightyears away? Had the Doctor gotten to him?

Had he gotten to the Doctor?

Dwelling on your fears did nothing but make you freeze.

You needed to do something.

There were still people who needed help, you could help them.

But you couldn’t be drawn away from the door. For a sickening moment you wondered if you had imagined him, the way he trembled, begged for you to fight off the inevitable. Perhaps induced by your fear, had you imagined the one person in the universe who could comfort you?

You longed for him to come back, to tut at you for being so scared and tease you for not having a respiratory bypass system.

Instead, he was gone. You were trapped. The noise of the crowd had gradually increased again, raising to a murmur as whispers and hushed sobs of children echoed off the walls. Tones were hushed, everyone terrified of waking the machinery again. Of restarting the horror. Every movement in the room spooked people, and the crackle of an overhead announcement system made people huddle together, whispering frantically as you all anticipated a robotic voice.

‘You will be converted’ still stung fresh in your ears, that sound which had followed you, been offered as the only explanation for what was happening.

That soulless reading of a death sentence still loomed over everyone trapped here.

You tried to stand strong in your position – if nothing else you could be a barrier between the crowd and whatever came through this door – even as freshly-dried tears made your eyes ache.

When a Yorkshire lilt called your name through the speakers, and you smiled.

“Here!”

The group of people backed away from you, watching with equal fear and curiosity as you desperately shouted up to the ceiling, hoping she could hear you.

“I can open one of the doors for a moment, need a power surge and an external battery, it’s a whole thing. Can you see me?”

You scanned the perimeter of the conversion chamber, and spotted movement on the far side of the room. A few of the crowd moved to let you through, whispering, and you could have cried with relief. Her mane of blonde hair was visible through the clear panel of a door, and she waved to you manically as you jogged over it. It was a harsh contrast to how you’d spotted The Master. This time, your relief was warranted.

Unable to hear her, you relied on trying to understand how she pointed frantically to the ground at your feet, before crouching as the played with wires sticking out of something which looked suspiciously-bomb-like. You mirrored her pose, hidden from each other, now below the glass of the window.

You could hear muttering behind you, the shudder of your own breath, as you waited.

There was no rejecting the Doctor’s help now, no matter where your loyalties or personal grievances lay. With the Master gone, she was your only way out.

You had to trust her.

With a gut-wrenching clang the door suddenly shuddered and rose upwards. The thick metal looked too heavy to stop if it fell, but you just held your breath and rolled underneath, trusting her yelled command of:

“Quick!”

She scrambled to pull you clear of the door as it slammed closed like the heavy drop of a guillotine blade, making you cry out as it shook the ground. You had barely made it. That impact would have been fatal.

“Doctor!”

She was already stood, hands on hips. You found yourself left shaking on the ground. She was already on to the next problem.

“I hope that didn’t rewake the system.” She mused as she picked at the smoldering wires, seemingly unaffected by your near-death experience.

You were panting, staring at her in shock. While you’d realised a long time ago that she wasn’t any more careful with your wellbeing than the Master, you couldn’t believe her complete nonchalance. Were The Master in her shoes he would be dragging you back to his TARDIS, apologising for putting you in the situation, his bravado stripped the second he’d seen your wellbeing at stake. He’d be all gentle hands and mumbled reassurance, fury at every single person responsible for the construction of the machinery which had scared you so much.

The memory of his face through the door of the conversion room made your chest hurt, your eyes sting, and you knew he’d never forgive himself for being so reckless. For putting you at risk.

When you looked up, expecting a concerned look at the minimum, you saw the Timelord’s spot vacated. A rat’s nest of wires were the only indication she’d even been beside you. The Doctor was already walking away, shoes clicking on the metallic floor of yet another identical corridor. The Cybermen here were still too, making you hug yourself and run to keep up with her.

“What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” he ground out.

The Doctor couldn’t stand not knowing. She consulted her sonic screwdriver with a scrunched-up face, holding it to her ear, scanning one of the stationary suits as you finally caught up.

“Where’s the Master?” You demanded.

“What?”

“The Master.”

Her face turned dark, and she scowled.

“Of course he’s involved in all this. I should have known. Right, um…”

With another wave and buzz of the sonic screwdriver, she scowled at the result, then at you.

“Got him.”

Perhaps you shouldn’t have told her that he was here. Would it put him at risk? Would it put her at risk? You couldn’t bring yourself to feel guilty. They would have met eventually, dragged together like unwilling magnets. They always converged eventually. And you really needed to see him.

The Doctor took off running, backtracking occasionally as she followed the trace of him the sonic had picked up. You tried in vain to remember these featureless corridors, should you need to navigate back alone. It wouldn’t work. This facility was endless, an economically designed rabbit warren marked with ruthlessly minimal symbols which you couldn’t discern meaning from.

You wouldn’t be able to get out of here alone.

You spared a thought for the poor souls still trapped in the room you’d escaped, cowering under those metal claws and eyeless Cybermen, herded here like trembling sheep.

As you ran after the blonde Timelord the corridor suddenly opened to a large hangar-style door, like the hotwired one you had barely made it under. Seeing the metal above you made you shutter and halt at the threshold, but adrenaline forced you onwards. You cared more about what was inside, who was inside.

You could see him. Hunched over a computer, Cybermen shrunken at his feet like dolls, the Master was in a state of mania as he ripped the room apart.

Seeing him The Doctor gasped and tugged you around a corner and out of view of the room. You went to whisper a protest, but found her lean hand clapped over your mouth, barely touching but enough to stop you giving away her hiding spot.

“Just trust me,” she insisted. “Stay here.”

She grabbed your hand, squeezing it as though you might be less inclined to follow her somehow.

You couldn’t. Despite everything, you felt the draw of the Master, and she tugged your arm to hold you from straying too close to him as you peeked around the corner, just watching him.

His booming voice was unmistakable as he shouted into the room, but his face was hidden from you. The control room of the underground building was sparking and torn apart in places, The Master’s precise tapping of computer keys was interspersed with the ruthless smashing of server racks as he threw them to the ground, scattering the technology. His dismantling of the room was equal parts strategic and uncontrolled destruction, and you worried for the blood seeping from his knuckles and forearms, his jacket strewn aside and sleeves rolled up.

As he took another break from the computer system to punch at a glass pane, you couldn’t let him hurt himself anymore. You surged forward from your hiding spot, feeling the Doctor trying to hold you back. Adrenaline and happiness to see him was all which powered your body.

Calling to him, you imagined his excitement at realising you were alive. Maybe he’d stop smashing. Take you to safety.

“MAST–”

The Doctor grabbed you around the waist, pulling you against her body, muting you with a single hand clamped vice-tight over your mouth. For a moment the pair of you waited in silence, shocked by each other’s actions in equal measure.  

“I don’t know what he’s done to you, but you need to stay away from him.”

Her accent grew stronger as she whispered, and you frowned. Her hand allowed you to breathe through your nose, but was tight around your jaw, her grip as strong as the Master’s.

“This is between us. You need to go back to the TARDIS.”

Not her TARDIS, you were sure of that.

You grunted into her hand, making her yell in pain as you bit down on the flesh of her palm, wriggling to get free. It didn’t even matter who she was: you refused to be manhandled. Your eyes flashed to the corridor, hoping The Master had noticed you, run to your rescue.

No footsteps came.

With a sigh, her hands found your temple, and your body weakened.

“I’m sorry, it’s a dirty trick. He’s done worse, I’m certain.”

You wanted to cry when you realised she was right. But not for the reasons she thought.

Her TARDIS was a mere few-minutes’ walk from where the pair of you had hidden, and she half-carried you the whole way, her mouth set in a grim line which terrified you more than any time the Master had ever shouted around you. You wanted to struggle, to fight her, but your body was too weakened to do anything.

You couldn’t even cry out, forced into obeying her, muscles made limp by her touch on your mind.

Setting you on the ground in the console room, she finally uncovered your mouth and dashed to the doors, calling back to you. As quickly as you had lost it, you suddenly you regained your strength, able to run at her.

“Stay in here.”

“DOCTOR!”

She darted out of the time ship just in time to escape your fury.

The TARDIS doors slammed closed, locking in an instant as you rushed to try and tug them open. It was no use, your whole body weight against the wood couldn’t move those doors.

You looked up at the ceiling of the sentient ship, hoping she might take your side, only to be met with the gentle hum of the time rotor.

“I need to get out,” you begged. “Please!”

Your exit remained barred.

A blue-tinged screen on the console flickered to life, and you left your post by the doors to peer at it. You could hear muffled voices outside, the screen showing a mute overhead view of the Doctor and her best enemy.  

“Please,” you whispered to her, stroking the console. You hoped she was like the Timelords who piloted her, using the touch to tune into your heart. “Let me talk to them.”

There was static, then a click, and you rushed back to the doors. They were still locked.

As you spun to the console in confusion, two familiar voices echoed through the ship’s speakers.

“Is she in there?”

It was him, voice desperate, demanding. The Master.

“No.”

The Doctor was a weak liar at times. He’d see through her. You pounded your fists at the translucent glass of the doors, then held one palm flat against it, begging him to notice you.

He did.

“Doctor!” He taunted. “You lied to me!”

“Stay away from her.”

Glancing back at the monitor, you could see how the Doctor’s body blocked his access to the door, positioning herself between the two of them.

“She wants to see me.”

“She doesn’t.”

You wanted to scream, object as The Doctor stood cross-armed guard between him and the ship. Your words couldn’t permeate the doors.

“Is she okay?”

The feed showed how his attire was destroyed in places, how he slumped, and something else too…

“You’re crying!” The Doctor declared, shock clear in her voice.

The Master didn’t hesitate, taking a long stride towards her, making The Doctor jut her chin out.

“Is she ALIVE?”

You didn’t need the audio feed to hear his yell, and you could see how the blonde Timelord recoiled.

“Obviously!”

He relaxed a little, taking back control, but you could still see how anger dripped off him. His words escaped him as a growl – frustration and fear a melting pot in his voice.

“You have no idea what could be in that stuff she breathed. You haven’t even checked her over, Doctor.”

“Oh, as if you actually care.”

One of them would snap, the Master’s snarling voice met with a harsh laugh from the other Timelord. One of them would just throttle the other, pull the TCE or a gun from some deep recesses of their pockets, or snap the others’ neck. One of them would survive, pulling you into their arms over the broken body of the other.

You couldn’t bear it. Tension seeped through the doors, through the silence of the TARDIS speakers and the bluelight of the screen.

“I care so much it frightens me. Can you imagine that, Doctor? That it scares me?”

He got closer to her face, almost spitting from anger.

“You’re lying,” she growled.

“I destroyed the Cyberium.”

In the grainy monitor you saw her take pause, inspecting his face for a moment, like she’d be able to see whether the Cyberium had left him from nothing but his panting and the whites of his eyes.

You’d heard about it in vague terms, the Cyber AI which he’d absorbed. You’d seen how he avoided the species like the plague as you travelled, the way he fought with it inside his own head sometimes.

Even when it seemed to cause him unbearable pain, he’d promised you it wasn’t that bad. Only in the quiet moments, when he thought you couldn’t see, did you catching him muttering to himself with his eyes pressed shut.

“You what?”

The Doctor looked disbelieving.

“I followed it. I obeyed it, helped it, and this is how it rewarded me. So I killed it.”

Speechless, The Doctor just stared at him.

“I’ll give you the command codes if you like, just let me take her. Please.”

“Have you hypnotized her?”

The Doctor’s new line of attack made you wince, spitting out her words like poison. The Master held his hands up in a surrender, a small silver box tucked under one thumb.

“No. I swear.”

“Let me talk to her first.”

For a moment, the Master seemed to look straight through the monitor, directly at you, and you swore he could tell you were watching. You moved closer to the screen, arms folded nervously as his eyes flickered back to the Doctor.

“Have it your way. I’ll be in the ship’s command room.” He turned to walk away, but you heard his voice still, steady through the speakers. “If you dematerialise, Doctor, I will hunt you down. And everyone left here will die.”

He marched off and you watched on the monitor as he left, longing to run to him as much as you wanted to kill him. The Doctor’s image paused for a moment, and you could see her pacing outside the TARDIS doors. Distracted by the live feed, you jumped when the doors finally banged open. The screen went black, and you silently thanked the ship for being on your side.

“Let me go.”

You told her firmly as she trudged towards the console, playing with one of the instruments like she was toying with just piloting the ship away.

“I will.”

The pair of you stood in silence for a moment, and you longed to say more, but what else was there to say?

“Is there any way I can convince you to stay away from him?”

You were already looking at the door, wondering if you could remember the route back to the smashed control room alone. The Doctor walked towards you, hands awkwardly behind her back, and you felt a pang of longing for what could have been if she was a little more honest, a little more open.

Her voice was desperate, soft, and it made your heart ache for the happier times you’d spent together. Before the pain which surged back and forth between you, the harsh words and the abandonment. You’d hurt each other irreparably. You couldn’t be happy with her and the fam. They would never be enough.

Despite everything, though, you didn’t want to hate her.

“I’ll always remember the adventures we had together,” you promised her.

So much had gone unsaid earlier, in your anger at her for dropping by unannounced and whisking you away like she still had a guarantee you wanted to travel with her. Facing the realisation that this really might be it, you wanted to hug her.

It was strange, wanting to leave her, and yet being so devasted about it.

“What is he, to you?”

She looked afraid to ask it, and you were sure she wouldn’t like your answer. With a sigh, you saw no sense in lying to her.

“I think I love him.”

The drop of her face was enough to confirm it, that there was no getting out of this without hurting someone.

“No mind control,” you promised.

“You can still stay. He’s dangerous.”

Her words were half-hearted. She knew your choice. You shook your head, and she finally left her comfortable spot, rounding the physical barrier of the console so there was only a few feet separating you.

“I know.”

For the first time since you’d known her, she hugged you, awkward and all misplaced limbs. You accepted it, hugging her tightly back. Her face was hidden from you, and you held her as long as she’d let you, hoping you were imagining the ragged breaths which caught in her throat.

“Will he look after you?”

“I think so.”

She nodded against your shoulder, letting you go.

“Thank you, for everything.”

You meant it. For the adventures, for the chance to get more from life than Earth could give you, for the friendships you’d shared with the fam, and for the chance to meet him.

Perhaps she already regretted that last gift.

“Let’s get going, then!”

Her chipper tone was mismatched for the somber mood as you stroked the console goodbye one last time, mumbling your gratitude to the impossible, ancient ship which had first shown you the beauty and terror of this universe. The Doctor strode out the door like this was any other adventure, and you almost expect to be met with the surface of an unknown planet, just one more time.

She led you through the corridors in silence, and you still shivered at the Cybermen as you passed them, recalling the horror concealed inside these metal soldiers.

With a quick instruction to wait for her, The Doctor darted off to check a rack of servers. This was it. Her easy out. She knew you wouldn’t wait.

You kept walking, unexpectedly recognising where you were. He wouldn’t be concealing anything in the corner of a cramped storage room. He would be at the heart of the ship. Waiting for you.

You were right. The doors to the control room hissed open as you approached, revealing him stood in the center of the room. He’d cleaned up, put his jacket back on, brushed his disheveled hair back and lost that snarling, wild-animal demeanor he had been overcome by outside the conversion room, and while he’d spoken to the Doctor. Like the best of his disguises, composure covered his true feelings as he waited for the pair of you, distain on his face and his hands casually strewn in a trouser and jacket pocket.

When he saw you approach alone his performatively curled lip dropped, face slackening as he rushed towards you, open concern on his face. When you didn’t reach out to embrace him, and he stopped, deflated a few feet from you. He tried to lighten the mood, his features picking up into an unnatural smile.

“I told you I’d get you out!”

“You didn’t.” You told him flatly.

He reached for you, and you crossed your arms over yourself, resisting his offer of affection. You wouldn’t go back to him without an apology, if you could help it.

“You left me there.”

“You’re here, you’re…”

He trailed off at the Doctor’s appearance, barging flustered into the room, muttering that she’d ‘told you to wait’. At her entrance the Master wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you tightly to him. You tried to get away, and he wouldn’t release you.

This was a show, meant only to remind the Doctor her friend had chosen him over her, and you hated it. You didn’t want to help him hurt her.

“Don’t touch me.”

He ignored your snarl. You kicked at his foot, and he broke his grip, allowing you to retreat from the two Timelords.

“Lover’s tiff,” he smiled apologetically to The Doctor, reaching out his hand for yours.

When you retreated further away from him again, he froze. He offered his palms up apologetically, and you noticed they were still littered with cuts, some particularly brutal looking. You suspected the smashed-up control room around you could answer for that. He caught you staring, open horror on your face, and shoved them in his trouser pockets.

“It’s okay,” The Doctor’s Yorkshire lilt tried to settle you, and she approached you from the other side like a scared animal. You recoiled from her too, and the Master stepped in front of you.

“You brought her here!” He scoffed to the other Time Lord. “Don’t pretend you’re any better than me!”

The Doctor was acting like the hero, as usual, treating The Master like a teacher calming a mid-meltdown child. Her soft voice and outstretched palms didn’t seem quite so sincere, on the receiving end. You could understand The Master’s anger, as her gentle voice tried to placate him.

“I brought you what you want, we can trade.”

Suddenly, pieces clicked together.

“You said you didn’t know the Master was here,” you frowned.

“Did I?”

You turned on her.

“This was on purpose. You brought me here on purpose?”

From the drop of her jaw, you could read that you were right. At least a little bit. You felt your throat tighten with tears. The Master growled.

“How dare you drag her into this!”

“What? Into your plan?” You caught yourself getting hysterical, but you didn’t care. The Timelords glanced at each other, herding you back towards the glass projection which covered the entire back wall.

“You were supposed to be on Earth! If you had stayed, like I told you –”

Under your glare, he fell silent.

The Doctor, ever playing at being a peacekeeper, tried to step closer to you, only to be matched by the Master. You had nowhere left to go, backed against the dark glass wall of the bunker as they looked between you and each other.

“Doctor, did you… know the Master was here.”

“Yes.”

She had the decency to sound remorseful. You thought back on when you first landed, how quickly you’d lost her, been swept up in the horde of people shepherded towards the conversion chamber. You remembered how you’d feared for your life, the heartbreak on the Master’s face as he’d almost watched you experience a fate worse than death.

How she’d suddenly decided she should have a heart-to-heart with you, the second the Master left you on earth.

“You used me.”

They played this game, and you were a pawn in it. She’d brought you were, let you follow her out of the TARDIS, to play with the Master. Just so she could be the savior, and he could play at matching all of her light with his dark.

“Give me the codes, and this can all end,” she spoke to the Master, refusing to relinquish any of her control as the two of them trapped you. “I’ll let you leave. Everyone downstairs lives. The Cybers get destroyed.”

“You’re monsters,” you whispered.

The two Timelords glanced at each other, not meeting your eye.

“Darling… ” The Master began. You cut him off.

“Don’t.”

“The Cyberium in my head, it was too much. I couldn’t handle it, and if I did this, I could find a way to get it out. I needed their technology, their trust. I’m sorry, love.”

You winced at the pet name. He’d called you that in bed, once, and you’d felt like the happiest person in the universe. You couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“I hope it was worth it.”

Even The Doctor wasn’t speaking. You glanced at her, trying to read anything but shock on from her expression. Following your eyeline, the Master seemed to jolt at the recollection she was even there. Both of you startled as he shoved a hand into the inside of his waistcoat, rummaging.

He threw a small silver communicator underhand to The Doctor, and she barely caught it, inspecting it with unguarded horror.

“Take this. You can dismantle the conversion facility with it, get the people downstairs out.”

She was already at the computer console, sneaking wary glances at the pair of you as her hands flew across the keys, computers still a little scorched from The Master’s earlier go at them. With the second Time Lord out of the picture, The Master turned to you.

“I was destroying this place. For what they did to you.”

“Why did you leave me?” you demanded, “down there?”

“I had to be here, to stop the gas, to freeze the hivemind. I’d already destroyed the Cyberium, I couldn’t stop it. I wasn’t in control.”

You wanted to believe him so badly, the pain in his eyes seemed so real, and he held eye contact with you like you’d never seen before.

“She was never meant to bring you were. I swear, I’ll kill every one of them myself if I have to.”

“Those people down there, they’re just like me. You were going to kill them?”

“They’re not you–”

“Believe it or not Master, I’m human. I’m the same as them. I know you hate it, but I’m the same as them.”

“You’re not–”

“I am! And you were willing to let them die.”

The tremble of his hand as he reached for your cheek gave away his fear, and you recoiled, wincing as your head collided with the hard glossy wall. The Master flinched too, dropping his hand.

“Think how many would have died if the Cyberium had taken over my mind. Taken my ship. Had you.”

The timeline was confusing. Upsetting. Too much to think about. You frowned as you tried to think about it.

“That’s why you dropped me home.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t let you see me losing control like that. I thought I could come back when it was all over, if I could get my mind back.”

The Doctor was working noisily, and an alarm started going off as she hacked further and further into the base’s system. Outside, you heard a ringing as a Cyberman crumpled to the ground.

“We need to leave.”

As angry as you were, you nodded quickly, letting him guide you out of the room. As you passed, the Doctor called your name.

“It was the only way, I’m sorry. I had to show him what he was doing…”

Her face was truly devastated, for the brief glimpse of it you caught, but you couldn’t forgive her. The Master’s arm found your waist, guiding you away from her quickly, and you let him.

Betrayal had rooted deep in your gut, making you want to nauseous as you looked at her face. All your history together, and she had knowingly dumped you in the middle of a crowd to be converted into Cybermen. Just to hurt The Master.

You saw those blank creatures, their masks hiding the faces of real people, who had loved and been loved, had dreams and wants and needs.

She’d told you it was the worst thing she could imagine. That she’d lost friends to that cruel death and would never risk losing another. At the time your heart had ached for her, for the suffering she had been through, her only crime trying to do the right thing. Apparently she didn’t consider you a friend anymore.

The screeching of collapsing metal ricocheted off the bare corridors, and the Master moved the two of you faster.

You screamed as a Cyberman moved beside you, an electrical twitch before it collapsed to the ground in a pile of loose metal, and the Master’s arm tightened around your waist even more protectively.

You couldn’t move. Your feet were stuck to the ground as you saw the unnatural way the creature fell, the skeleton inside so decomposed the usual flexibility limits of a human body were far exceeded.

Almost pulling you over with his momentum, the Master stopped beside you. He followed your stare towards the horrific sight beside you, and made a noise of discontent in the back of his throat. With a gentle hand he guided your head away until you couldn’t see the creature anymore and the vision was replaced with his face.

“I’m sorry.”

Against your better judgement, and despite everything you’d been through, you hugged him. In the corridor as the base started to crumple around you, you couldn’t help unravelling at his touch, his head against yours as he pulled you tightly against him, feeling tears welling up in your eyes as you pressed your face to his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

“No.”

Deep red lights illuminated the corridors around you, and you felt his sharp inhale of fear.

“Talk later. We need to run. Now.”

The Master struggled to navigate the corridors, swearing to himself each time he reached a junction, and dragging you in the right direction after a moment of panicked, hitting-his-own-head thought. It brought you some small measure of comfort, in the midst of this horrifying day, that he couldn’t have been here long.

Lungs aching, you fought to keep up with him. Even the Master was stumbling, unused to running for this length of time, and he shot you looks of concern as your human body needed to wheeze for breath. The collapsed bodies of Cybermen and the screaming of alarms were enough to keep you moving as the very structure itself rumbled. The burning pain in your muscles could wait.

You noticed the Master cursing up at the ceiling level above, where the Doctor still resided, muttering. What was she doing?

Finally you let yourself slow at the sight of his ridiculous outback shack. It was completely out of place and blocking a walkway. That stupid ship. You loved it.

It was facing the wrong way, and you had to use the back porch steps to clamber up onto the structure, faltering as the comfort of being near the machine finally let your adrenaline crash. He half-dragged you to keep up as you both rounded the veranda, throwing the doors open and firmly pulling you inside. He rushed to the console as the rumbling of breaking concrete and collapsing earth followed you into the ship, and you didn’t have the heart to care about the destruction happening outside.

The Doctor could handle the people who were trapped. She always did, their savior no matter the cost.

The moment the TARDIS’ doors closed, you fell into that old rickety sofa, and sobbed.

The Master piloted in silence, and once the murmur of the ship engines had stopped, he paced towards you awkwardly. He crouched to sit himself on the low table opposite your curled form, clasped his hands, and bowed his head. He let you cry yourself out, staring out as the windows at the vortex – empty and filled with flashes of colour all at the same time.

After a while he left, coming back with water and tissues, and you took them gratefully.

A few sips of water left you with enough voice to speak, albeit tremblingly, as he watched you worriedly.

“Do you think the bunker collapsed? After we left?”

“Probably. I think she got them out though. The computers could open the doors to the surface.”

“Good,” you said firmly.

“Good that they got out, or that the building collapsed?”

“Both.”

He chuckled, pulling your clenched hand away from your face. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, keeping them held to his lips. His hands were warm against your fingers as he held them, leant forwards with his elbows resting on his knees, lips surprisingly soft.

You knew he could check the fate of the bunker collapse. Future archeologists would have found it, if no one at the time recorded its outcome. But you didn’t particularly care for the truth. This ending was nicer.

Even after you fidgeted, trying to get more comfortable with him holding your hand away from you, he didn’t let go. You noticed the marring on his hands, already scabbing a little, and turned onto your side to touch the wounds.

“Do these hurt?”

“A little. They’ll heal up with some sleep, though.”

You laughed hollowly. Of course, a nap could heal wounds which you would need stitches for. He smiled sadly against your lips.

“Did you get hurt, at all? I was worried about the gas.”

“I’m a bit bruised, but I’ll be fine.”

The fall and the running made your muscles ache, but the main hurt wasn’t physical.

She’d betrayed you.

“She asked me to leave with her.”

He bowed his head, lips moving against your knuckles as he spoke.

“You said no?”

“Duh.”

He smiled.

“Thank you.”

You shrugged, not totally forgiving of him yet either. The energy had left you to fight. All you wanted was a bit of peace, convalescence before this inevitable game started again. The reckless travel, fighting over how much damage to cause, and the sex he didn’t care about.

How much longer could the two of you keep this up?

You wondered if you’d ever regret the decision to stay with him. When death stared you in the face again? The next time he forgot how human you were? At the pull of the TCE’s trigger, as he killed someone without a second thought?

Maybe then the Doctor’s different-but-equally-grey morals might seem more appealing.

Perhaps if you’d begged her to let you rejoin the ‘fam’, the Doctor might not have used you as a bargaining chip.

“When I saw you through that window… I realised you mean more to me. More than I’d ever expected.”

The admission would have made you swoon, on another day, but you just threw your head back against the wicker armrest, emotionally exhausted.

“I mean it.”

He was watching you for a reaction, and you rolled your head to face him.

His eyebrows drew together in a frown.

“You must be shattered, love.”

You could only nod, and he dropped his forehead to the hand he was clutching, a silent apology.

“What can I do to help? I need you to tell me. I’ve been alone too long, and I’m not good at this stuff –”

His breath was hot against the skin of your hand. It made you shiver.

“I just want a shower. And to sleep. We can talk in the morning I just… I’ve had a long day.”

“Of course.”

It wasn’t a surprise to you, his capacity for tenderness, but you hadn’t seen it this exposed, this prolonged, before. He seemed to move a little easier than he had in the last few weeks, his mind not drifting so far from where it ought to be tethered.

You wondered if he’d ever tell you how badly the Cyberium had affected him.

“Sorry.”

Maybe he knew what your apology was for, maybe he didn’t. Nonetheless he shook his head, helping you up, his hands held out in a silent offer for support walking should you need it. You took your own steps, legs trembling a little from overexertion as you walked alongside him towards the corridor which housed both of your rooms.

“Wait a second,” he murmured, leaving you so he could check a screen, humming at whatever he saw.

Like he’d never left, he was back, arm held out for you to take. You laid a hand across his elbow lightly, not to lean on him, but to be near him.

“What was that?”

“Just checking you’re okay.”

At your puzzled look, he continued, tone dismissive.

“The TARDIS checks your vital signs. That green gas was nasty, unknown, I just wanted to check it didn’t need any immediate attention. Seems like it just knocked you out. How are your muscles feeling?”

“Exhausted, obviously. I think I’ll ache tomorrow.”

He hummed in agreement as you reached your door, surprising you when he opened it for you and followed you inside.

“High lactic acid. Blood-oxygen’s a touch lower than I’d like, too.”

You frowned.

“Do you really measure all that stuff on me?”

“Is it creepy? I hoped it wasn’t. I just… it’s not exactly intrusive, better than a checkup or whatever. It lets me know you’re not about to drop down dead.”

He moved around your room as he spoke, collecting pajamas and your hairbrush, various other bits and bobs you might need in an overnight bag. When he caught you watching him, confused, he walked back to the door. Your possessions were bundled against his chest, secured by one of his hands.

“Come use my bath. There’s some soaks that should help you recover.”

The shake in your legs wasn’t just from the running as you crossed the corridor, surprised by the realisation his door appeared to be unlocked. It was barely six feet from the entrance to your room, but you’d never seen this door open.

You had assumed his room was always locked. When he was in there, absent from the rest of the ship, it meant he wanted to be left strictly alone. Going inside, even with his hand guiding you, felt forbidden.

He’d always fucked you in your room. It was easier for him that way. It allowed him to leave the second he was done, if he wanted to. Even when the pair of you got more comfortable, laying together, spending more time intertwined just reading or watching movies, his space was off limits.

He didn’t miss the way you halted at the threshold, looking around at the curiously designed space. The furniture didn’t match the room, you noticed. Colourless walls were contrasted with a regal four-poster, antique bookshelves stretched high towards an iridescent crystalline ceiling, futuristic inlaid lights illuminated the messiness of a hand-carved oak desk.

Old and new clashed, everything regal and big, but barely filling the oversized space.

“It’s a bit weird,” he conceded, “you can stick to your room if you like.”

“No, no its fine. Just not what I expected.”

He set your things on the bed, and you picked over the sweats he’d brought, clutching them to your chest.

“What did you expect?” he grinned.

“I don’t know. Versailles? Or some kind of BDSM torture chamber?”

With a laugh he appraised the room, biting his lip in amusement.

“Are you disappointed?”

You found yourself grinning too, as he shucked off his coat and lay it over the desk chair.

“A little.”

The newly formed tension between you had felt like a lead weight, and you only realised when it was broken. You bounced on your heels as much as your injured muscles allowed, and let him lead you to the bathroom.

“Don’t change yet, I’ll just grab some shower stuff!”

More classic, the bathroom was all marble, the space dominated by an oversized claw-foot tub. For a moment you realised the pair of you could fit in there comfortably, before brushing the thought away. Exhaustion was making you hazy already. You’d just fall asleep.

Plus, you remembered, you were mad at him.

Ignoring his warning you started to strip off, left in just your underwear by the time he appeared in the doorway with an ‘oh!’

“Its fine. Nothing you haven’t seen before,” you pointed out.

He still looked sheepish.

“Rub this on anywhere that hurts before you get in the water, should stop any inflammation and you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Help?”

You were too tired to navigate the pain mapped all across your body alone, and you didn’t want to be without company. The screams of the child who’d lost a mother, of the people who’d seen that gas descending, the slamming of the door you’d barely rolled under, they’d all find your ears again as ghosts the moment you were without distraction.

Without you stripping off any further, the pair of you managed to apply the chalky substance all over your body, the honey-sweet smell filling the air as his hands cautiously rubbed it across your muscles. You were more slapdash with your own application, and he quietly returned to spots you’d missed, making sure you wouldn’t ache. His attention to your muscles was so tender and careful, you had to keep talking, just to stop yourself choking up.

“I could have used this on the Doctor’s TARDIS!” you had tried to joke.

The other Timelord was far more fond of running, and you’d woken up countless mornings in agony, even as the fun of the day before electrified the atmosphere in her ship.

The Master stayed silent.

On many levels, you felt you understood him a little better now. It had hurt, to be betrayed by her, but you had something in common now.

“Did it hurt to leave her?” he whispered.

The Master’s eyes were on your calf as he kneaded the substance into your skin, but his hands froze at your momentary silence.

“Yeah. It did. Before I realised what she’d done, at least.”

He nodded silently, swallowing. The pair of you froze as you finally put the glass jar down, accepting that this excuse to be together was done. His hands left your skin and he walked to the sink awkwardly, washing his hands in silence.

He didn’t leave, leaning against the counter and watching you.

“Give me a shout if you need me, okay?”

You smiled, suddenly shy, barely recognising the man in front of you.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll be just outside.”

Finally, he left. He closed the door with a click, and instantly you felt like an intruder, left alone in his bathroom. It was tidy, but everywhere were reminders it was his space. Aside from your clothes folded messily on the counter, there was only his things. A matte black range of branded products scattered the room, lined up by his toothbrush, on a built-in shelf of the shower. You wanted to investigate them, smell them. See which of them were responsible for the smell you associated with him.

The tub of hair clay by the sink had the lid slightly ajar, and it made you smile as you corrected it. He must have gotten ready in a rush. It was strange, that he’d even wanted you in here, but you hoped it was some step towards real closeness. There was still so much to say, but that was easy to forget when he was there, caring for you.

You’d only left the Doctor because you could see a future with him – something she couldn’t offer you, surrounded by carelessness and lies and three other companions. The Master could offer you more. You could almost picture your own toothbrush, stood up next to his.

You stripped off your underwear and left it on the countertop, foregoing the tub for the alluring waterfall shower in the corner of the room. It was easily big enough for four people, all natural-cut stone with a simple pair of dials to control it. Beautiful, and completely to the Master’s taste.

Before you had touched anything the TARDIS started the water, a slow trickle turning into a warm sheet of water which made you sigh at the sensation of being underneath it.

“Thanks, dear,” you mimicked how he spoke to the ship, and she flickered the lights in return.

It was heaven, to finally have every remaining atom of that base, that conversion room, those corridors, swept off your skin.

The products you reached for all smelt faintly like him – a matching suite of mildly citrus-scented body wash and hair products. Exhaustion and the smell made you feel dazed as you rubbed the chalky healing substance off your body. The smell of him made you feel somehow guilty as you tried to clean the sweat and grime from your hair and your face. His senses were so attuned, you wondered if it would freak him out. Or whether he’d like it, to have you smelling of him. Like a claim.

If he was still outside the unlocked door the thundering of the water hid any noise he made. You rolled your shoulders and turned the heat up, letting the heaviness of the water rush over you, waiting for this day to make sense.

You had no idea how long you stood there lost in thought. The Master’s voice dragged you back to reality, calling your name worriedly through the door with a rap of his knuckles against the wood.

“Are you okay?”

“All good!”

Calling back, you quickly rinsed your hair before shutting the water off, suddenly driven back to motion by his concern. Back in your early days together he’d often overestimated how much humans could withstand, lamenting the ‘wasted’ hours of sleep you wanted, or the frequency with which you had to eat. He’d gotten better recently. He was aware of how exhaustion affected you, appreciated that you couldn’t walk or run forever. It had amused you when he started carrying food and even occasionally arranging places for you to stay overnight, should your travels require it.

On a fundamental level, he had started caring for you more.

The Master had never gone to this extent, though. Or perhaps you had never needed his care as much. The scans his ship seemed to run on you proved he’d at least been checking your body was okay all this time.

Maybe he’d always just checked your health and opted to let you heal alone, before today.

A deep burgundy towel hung on a heated rail beside the shower and you grabbed it, careful not to slip as you wrapped the material around you. It was oversized, thick and soft, and you couldn’t help the jolt when you felt the warmth of it on your bare skin and remembered it was his.

Even though he’d been inside of you, gotten to know you, you’d never been allowed to know him back. Not really. This felt like a start.

You had to brush the thought aside, drying your hair as best you could without a hairdryer, pulling on pajamas and leaving the wet towel back where you found it for the ship to deal with. It took a moment, and a deep breath, for you to finally emerge from the steam-filled room.

The Master was sat on his bed, reading some book from his collection which was quickly strewn onto his desk as you approached.

“Better?”

“Yeah, thanks. I think I’ll still ache tomorrow.”

He looked a little sheepish.

“Hopefully not. That stuff’s pretty good, usually.”

You stood uncomfortably for a moment, waiting for some cue from him on where to go from here. He turned down the bed, silently pulling the covers aside for you to climb in. Then he looked at you expectantly, as if you were obviously supposed to just clamber into his bed. You were surprised, but all too grateful for the comfort.

“Really?”

He left your question unanswered. You settled beneath the sheets, and The Master watched you as he tried to figure out what to do next.

“Do you want me to…”

He was mid-thought, it seemed, asking you if he should leave his own bedroom. You spoke over him.

“Can you stay with me? Just for tonight. We’ll forget it ever happened tomorrow if you want.”

He faltered, still watching you curiously. You wondered what his plan had been, if not to stay with you.

“Every time I close my eyes, I see those fucking metal claws, the insides of those creatures, I –”

Without a word he stripped off his jacket, boots and waistcoat.

“I just need a shower. Give me five minutes.”

You nodded, wrapping the covers around you and trying to get comfortable. You’d never had ‘sides of the bed’ - he’d never stayed long enough to designate those - but you couldn’t shake the feeling you were in the wrong place.

It was stupid. To be having casual sex with the man, to trust him with your life, and not even feel entitled to be sleeping in his bed.

Something had to change.

The Master was barely gone two minutes, emerging from his shower with a towel slung around his hips. He rummaged through his wardrobe before tugging free a pair of checkered pajama trousers, glancing to check you were still there before silently returning to the bathroom to change. You looked away at his half-nakedness, hoping he hadn’t noticed your breath hitch.

The two of you were a mess.

His awkwardness didn’t escape you as he rounded the bed, shirtless and with wet hair.

He climbed in beside you, careful not to touch you, and you tried to be as unobtrusive as possible, letting him pull the covers over himself and refusing to let your bodies roll together, even as the mattress gave. To your surprise, he lay out to mirror you, on his side behind you.

If not to the distance between your bodies, he could be chest to chest with you.

“Comfy?”

You nodded against the pillow, hands self-consciously tucked away in front of you. You could feel it when he spoke, the whisper of his breath on your neck. His head rested inches behind yours, intimate even as the pair of you didn’t touch.

“You smell nice,” he mumbled, nose close to your freshly-washed hair.

You laughed.

“I smell like you, of course you like it!”

That got a chuckle out of him, and you could feel how his body moved the mattress as he exhaled.

“Are you cold? Your hair’s still wet.”

You shrugged, and he brought his arm around you, resting it on you without pulling you in. He made a noise of contentment as you shuffled closer into him, letting him hold you more easily.

With a gulp, you hoped his closeness to you would stop him from recoiling at your question.

“Before you dropped me off… when I fell asleep…”

“I’m sorry.”

Oh.

“So, you did do it.”

“You wouldn’t leave otherwise. It is not safe for humans around Cybermen,” he trailed off.

The question you wanted answered was obvious, hanging in the air, making you tense.

“Its not okay, to mess with people’s heads like that,” you chided him gently, with no anger in your tone, nothing to make him explode at you like he had before.

“I… yeah. I know.”

You frowned, even as you knew he couldn’t see you.

“The Cyberium… it made me not trust myself. It was relentless, talking to me. Muddling my thoughts with the AI…”

“You were scared.”

“I was furious. It made me volatile.”

His face buried into your neck. As though this was the most natural thing in the world, you found yourself trusting his touch. You brought a hand up to stroke his hair as he mumbled against your skin.

“I was scared. It threatened to hurt you if I didn’t do what it wanted. I didn’t sleep for a month, couldn’t let my guard down, knowing it might use my body to hurt you. It was trying to get to me.”

You found his arm where it was strewn across your side and covered it with your own arm, squeezed his hand in comfort.

“You should have told me.”

“How could I?”

Without a response you fell silent, thumb tracing the hairs on the back of his hand.

“I hope you’ll forgive me, someday. You shouldn’t have been there. I promise.”

He blamed the Doctor, beyond all anger, he was just upset with her. You could never hope to understand the length and breadth of their tumultuous relationship. It would take a human lifetime to comprehend the bond between them – two near-gods who had been stuck in a game of cat and mouse for their whole lives.

“She used me.”

“I wish she hadn’t.”

Without seeing each other’s faces, it was easier to talk.

“Would you have stopped it, if I hadn’t been there?”

“Eventually. I wanted to destroy the base properly. I wanted a plan. I hate the Cyberium for what it did to me. It should have been power, knowledge, and instead it tried to steal what I knew, take my body for its own. The things it showed me… how it threatened me… I couldn’t let it take what’s mine.”

“The TARDIS…” you realised.

“And you.”

You nodded abruptly at his words.

One thought wouldn’t leave your mind: those people around you, he would have let them die.

Collaterally to you, he’d saved them.

And maybe that could be a start.

“Is the Cyberium totally gone now?”

“Yep! Transferred it to the supercomputer on the base, and then destroyed the machinery. Tricky to hide my plan from the AI, but I managed it.”

You couldn’t help smirking at his brag.

“And how do you feel?”

“Glad to have my mind to myself again,” his tone flattened.

It was hard to believe everything fell together, just like that. It still felt so unfinished, so… unhandled. In the minutes you were alone the feelings of betrayal, the sheer enormity of your ordeal, had felt so unmanageable. Now, you felt ready to heal.

Beneath his hand, your stomach gurgled loudly, and you cringed at the noise.

As you were about to apologise, the Master spoke.

“Wait, did you eat today?”

You frankly had no idea how long today had even been. You shook your head with a confused frown, realising that now the adrenaline had left your system, you were damn hungry.

He clambered out of bed, and you pulled the duvet aside to follow him, your muscles protesting at even the idea of walking to the kitchen.

“No, stay there, you need to rest. I’ll be quick.”

True to his word, a plate of food was dumped on your lap in minutes. Some of it not quite fit for human consumption, but most of it your favourites.

He clambered back into bed beside you. He used his body to prop you up comfortably. He picked off what you didn’t want, chatting away about nothing in particular, and something scarily like peace settled over you. That twinge of panic, the fear his mood would flip on a dime, ebbed further away every time he made sure the blankets were covering your feet. With every second he sat beside you, sneaking bites of your food and laughing when you spilt crumbs on his covers, your resolve grew.

You’d stay.

Maybe you imagined it, but he seemed so much happier in his own head. The dark moments when he wasn’t paying attention never appeared, the mental war he was fighting never sneaking outwards to play across his face. Every laugh felt sincere, every word authentic.

When you were done eating the Master cleared the plate, and you took it in turns to brush your teeth. He went first, and when you took his place in the bathroom you saw a brand-new toothbrush sitting innocently beside his at the sink.

The sight made you feel dizzy, even minutes later when you re-emerged into his darkened bedroom, taking your place once more in the bed. The image of those two toothbrushes side by side was burned into your mind. He pulled you to his shirtless body wordlessly, no hesitations this time, whispering a goodnight as the room fell into pitch-blackness.

You needed to rest.

Each time you closed your eyes, you tensed up. No matter the comfort, The Master had gone still beside you, but you were certain he was still awake.

“Where are we?”

“Somewhere near the Alzarium Galaxy, I believe.”

“How far–”

“Half a universe away, I promise.”

You closed your eyes again, feeling him breathe behind you as you tried to push the image of that collapsed Cyberman from your mind, the screams, that crying, motherless child. You’d seen horrors before, but rarely as the victim of them. Never so close.

Suppressing tears, you opened your eyes, staring into the darkness of the room.

“I can’t sleep.”

He hummed sympathy, pulling you tighter to him and brushing his nose against your neck. You sighed into him, trying to close your eyes again, unable to keep your mind from straying.

“Help me?”

You could talk more tomorrow, when you’d rested and had some distance from everything. But as you fell asleep, dreamless as the Master’s hands cupped your temples, you knew you were home.

[daetur]

Constructs and Conversation (Dyrihm Personal Event Log, Part 3)

With Nob ransacking Trevarde’s home for everything he can find, Rey prepares to take the next step in protecting their friend: searching for Trevarde’s Ebon Blade contact, a man referred to in the priest’s reports as “Knight Solis.”

What he finds worries his deeply- and he returns to Dyrihm with some very bad news.

|| For his part, Rey could at least look into Trevarde’s Blade contact. Seeking the address printed on the priest’s reports, Rey finds himself in the eastern Plaguelands, surrounded by towering mushrooms and noxious fumes. A few lonely gargoyles flap by in the distance, and up a battered, barely-there road lies a dilapidated shack. Outside, a man in black and green armor stands, poking and prodding at the still corpse of a ghoul upon a wooden table.

Reyanel lands much farther away, keeping to the shadows cast by the great fungi and old bones. His bone beast takes off to circle far above, not far in case it needed to help. Pausing, Rey took Nob's cowl and draped it over his head, obscuring his face from view. Precautions, even if he had a feeling they wouldn't do much good in the long run. Settling back, he observes for a moment, not wanting to jump completely into an unknown situation right out of the blue.

Solis continues with his work, grumbling to himself. He produces a dark bottle from his belt, and coaxes something wispy and black from its depths into the ghoul. It stirs.

Reyanel | Ugh, an unholy knight?  Stereotypical but who ELSE actually wants little minions crawling after them so often. Taking an unnecessary breath, he strolls out, channels his Best Maul Impression and barks out, "OI."

Solis startles, and whirls around- interrupted, the ghoul falls limp again as the Knight faces Rey. He eyes the Undercity tabard warily. "I- A visitor, all the way out here?" he asks, trying to play calm.

Reyanel notes the glances towards the tabard.  "Ah--this, mate?  Passed through Forsaken territory, made things smoother." He shucks the tabard off and ties it to his waist.

[Reyanel]: 'Eard a Knight was out 'ere.  Ya 'em?

Reyanel isn't so much...channeling Maul but also someone else too.  Mixing the two accents really.

Solis seems to relax. "Ah, of course. And yes- yes." He waves a hand at the Scourge structures behind them. "Marvelous, isn't it? All still standing. Interesting what we could do with it, with the new regime and all." He brushes off his hands. "What can I do for you?"

Reyanel nods his head out to the structures.  Ah, he can get on that.  Something he understands. "Fuckin' 'mazing." Rey comments. "Actually, wanted ta ask, if there's anythin' I can do FOR ya.  Awfully free of work these days, ya know."

Reyanel shrugs his shoulders, somehow managing to look more grizzled and veteran like with his posture. A slouch but with a stiff spine that he easily falls into.

[Reyanel]: Got wind when I passed through the Undercity, and thought I'd try an' strike a match, ya know?

Solis looks surprised. "Are you? Thought it's been pretty all hands on deck with the Blade." He purses his thin lips. "Undercity knows I'm out here?"

[Reyanel]: Nah, nah, was lookin' for Blade folk, ya know?  Shit, mate, I ain't stupid.

Reyanel doubts that privately at this point.

[Reyanel]: Yeah, got laid off for a bit after we got 'em red lady.

Solis makes an affirming sound. "On rest after all that business with the Crusade? Suppose that makes sense." He sounds pleased as he continues. "That's why I have time to continue my own work, after all! A little downtime until the King's next orders to the Deathlord."

Reyanel is so glad he's wearing a mask because holy shit, really?  He's fucking cackling at the Blade's state.

[Reyanel]: What ya doin' out 'ere then?  Folk weren't very fuckin' detailed and I gotta know if I'm ya guy before I commit to somethin'.

Solis nods. "Of course, of course- know anything about constructs? If we're being made into an army again, the new King could always use more soldiers- loyal ones."

[Reyanel]: Constructs? Weren't ever my greatest.  Couple ghouls, yeah but past that, fuck, mate.

Reyanel squints though. "Loyal soldiers?  Ya questionin' me, mate?"

Reyanel has been around....too many paranoid warriors in his lifetime.....

Solis raises a brow. "That depends." He waves a hand behind him again. "With the return of the Lich King, you must know many Blade feel that we should stay only loyal to other Ebon."

[Reyanel]: 'Course I know, I didn't lose my fuckin' ears.

Reyanel coughs thickly, shit his voice it's fine.  He crosses his arms stiffly.

Solis crosses his arms. "Then, yes, I'm asking. This work, you see, it's my own personal project- for our King, not the Blade. We were glorious, once, after all! And we're so close to having that again..."

Reyanel 's lips thin behind his--well, Nob's--cowl.  Wow. "I mean, mate, bein' made inta 'n army and shit on the King's orders?  Gotta think ahead, ya know."

[Reyanel]: King's gettin' us outta a rut?  Ya count me in, mate.  Sittin' on our arses for years for some cookies? Nah, mate, nah.

Solis brightens. "That's what I'm talking about! The Blade has languished in the years since Icecrown fell! And now look at us- fresh horsemen, to show the Alliance, the Horde, and those filthy Crusaders that we are still to be reckoned with! We focus our attention on the Legion, yes, but after? Mark my words, Mograine will go back to sitting on his hands, but the King! With his return, we can march in glory again."

Reyanel nods his head, COMPLETELY fucking agreeing.  Fuck the Blade.  But. What did THIS mean for Dyrihm and all the other bullshit.  "Can't help but wonder why fucks ain't more with ya and my attitude, fuckin' hell."

Reyanel | Filthy fucking crusaders.  He can't help but the like the dude.

Solis is clearly warming to Rey, and to his topic. "It's a shame, really. Weak hearted, I suppose. But you see! That's what I'm trying to work on here- my OFFICIAL assignment has been to look into Knights who may not be loyal to the Blade, and, well, I've been

Solis trying to see what can be done about that." He pats the limp ghoul. "A stronger soul makes for a better construct," he explains. "But it's harder to control. Making adjustments to the body and soul can help with focus and obedience- stronger souls, stronger bodies, better soldiers, that's my goal."

Reyanel is, somehow, warming up to Solis and he doesn't know how to feel about that. But his steady conversation has garnered SOMETHING. But he finds himself nodding along in agreement to Solis' words. "Smart fuckin' thinking. Gonna need men and bodies to get us

Reyanel all up an' goin' again."

Reyanel pauses.

[Reyanel]: I ain't exactly SHABBY with constructs but, shit, I ain't a fuckin' fleshcrafter.

[Reyanel]: Ya need 'elp on ya assignment though, fuck, I can sniff out those shits.

Solis considers. "Well- you do have that Undercity tabard. The ones among the Forsaken are such a problem! I have a few good contacts, but things are so carefully watched there." He links his fingers together, cracking knuckles as he thinks. "Don't need anything special- the Blade sends people to pick them up when they have enough of a case to warrant it. I just divert them from other disciplinary holdings for my own purposes. All I need is information." He shrugs. "Of course, as far as my work goes, I suppose even an inexperienced hand could be useful. Unless you're any good with soul manipulation? I usually have to get someone to come in for my finer work as it is."

Reyanel | I mean......he IS good at soul manipulation but........

Reyanel taps the tabard with his clawed gauntleted hands, click, click, click of steel. Well...if Dyr's getting watched that means that Discipline is somewhere down the line. And that's not good. Void, how does he get out of this mess. "I ain't awful at that soul

Reyanel shit." He says though aloud. "Reckon though I can use this--" He taps the tabard again. "--to ya advantage should ya need it."

Reyanel | How far...does he want to take this...

Reyanel sorta doubts bringing up Dyrihm or anything will be good for REY...probably blow his cover unless he phrases it right...

Solis pulls the dark bottle from his belt again, showing it to Rey. The smoky, black thing inside swirls. "I work with some people in Icecrown to get these made," he explains. "It's a similar principle to phylacteries, you see- lets me transport souls back here to use for my work, if I can get traitors transferred up to them. I'd be able to do it here, if you're able to extract souls- oh!" He sounds excited. "Too much trouble to move non-Ebon up to Icecrown, but! If I didn't have to, I could even use Crusaders..."

Reyanel | Holy fuck.

Reyanel leans forward, interest shining through despite himself.  He listens with the occassional grunt.  But you can sure bet, his internal dialogue between Reya and himself either just came to a SCREECHING halt or just plain SCREECHING.

Reyanel | First....traitors.  If Dyr's under surveillance by THIS FUCK.  Then.  Well. Hopefully Dyr can get his SHIT TOGETHER.

Reyanel | Second, that fucking vial makes him oddly homesick and that's a lot to think about so he doesn't.

Reyanel | Third, the guy wants to extract souls from A) traitors and B) Non-ebon?? C) Crusaders.

Reyanel | In summary. Holy fuck.

Solis | That's true.

Reyanel kinda slow blinks, eyes narrowing for the act. "Gotta slow down there, mate, talkin' quick." He manages hoarsely. "Am I gettin' ya straight? Ya bringin' traitors up for this? Non-Ebon too?" Well...traitors were non-ebon technically...ugh. His head hurts.

Reyanel whistles though. "Shit, man." He manages to look appropriately impressed.  Because fuck, he is.

Solis chuckles. It's a weird sound, and gets a little lost in the back of Solis's throat. "Apologies, I just get- don't have anyone down this way to help out, you see. But yes- Ebon traitors normally get locked up in Acherus, but I've done enough favors for the right people that I can get some of them sent up to the Citadel instead- my people do their work, keep the bottled souls til they got enough it's worth sending them my way, and I tinker with my constructs down here."

Reyanel can't believe this. It's so ingenious.  He hates this and loves it both.

[Solis ]: They do pick up some adventurers, too, who're sticking their noses too far into our business, so that rounds out the shipments.

Reyanel can't help a sharp little grin under the cowl across his face.  Man.  If he and this guy had met in other time.  "It's fuckin' brilliant, mate, shit."

Reyanel isn't even faking this.  He's being genuine and he hates and loves his life.

Solis puffs out his chest. "Well, thank you-" He pauses, looking suddenly stricken. "I haven't gotten your name- 'm Solis."

Reyanel blinks. "Aw, shit, did I forget that?" He shakes his head apologetically, thinking quickly, trusting his instincts and coming up with-- "Kion." Fuck. Bad instincts.

Solis extends a hand. "I think it's going to be a pleasure doing business with you, Kion." He rolls his shoulders a little. "Expecting another shipment sometime this week, if you'd like to come play. Otherwise, well- keep an eye on those City Knights for me? The more dirt I get, the faster I can get them picked up and sent north."

Reyanel takes Solis' hands, thankful all at once for the gauntlets he's wearing. "Sure can, mate. Ya know someone I can check in with? Hate to run by word of mouth like I did this time."

Reyanel manages a small grunt.  "Fuckin' bloody Forsaken."

Solis nods. "I've got a few being watched already. Gent by the name of Ferrin can get you names on a few who tried to block our reclamation of Knight Koltira. Then there's Isabelle, she's with the Rangers, keeps an eye on a couple of Knights in Brill- ah, and Magnus. Got him looking into an old friend of his- hell, he tipped me off in the first place. Just ask around for a Father Trevarde."

Reyanel nods his head curtly, soldier-like, letting the handshake go if Solis didn't. "Gotcha, mate. I'll keep an eye out for 'em when I get back." He blinks, and tabs the tabard. "Speakin' of, should try and get there soon. Hours are fuckin' weird there, ain't like Silvermoon or some shit."

Solis scoffs. "That's the truth- no good time to slip into the City that literally never sleeps, after all." He beams at Rey. "Got some way I can reach you, Kion?"

Reyanel shrugs a shoulder. "I ain't got residence as I said but.." He snorts. "Well, let's see, I get some o' my mail to a fella out in the Western side of these lands. I use the mailbox and no one's the wiser."

Reyanel reaches into his belt to scrawl an address on a loose leaf of paper that he procures somehow.

Reyanel holds the thing out. That person's going to be so fucking mad with him, he probably should spring them.

Solis accepts it. "And, clearly, you have my address- or feel free to piggyback messages with my other contacts, I'm sure they'd be happy to help." He tucks the paper away, and returns the soul-vial to whence it came as well. "Damn glad to find someone else out here to appreciates where the new King could take the Knights again, I tell you."

Reyanel does flash a grin this time, letting the sharpness reach his eyes. "I'm right with ya on that point, mate." He offers the man a cocky two-fingered salute. "I'll see ya later on then."

Solis nods, returning the smile. "See you soon, yes! I'll be in touch."

Reyanel stalks off at that, scooting around to fucking book it once out of sight.

|| Rey makes his trip back to Dyrihm’s home swift, Rey and Reya warring with each other as he does so, diving through the tunnels of the Undercity until he comes to the lower entrance, the door that leads to the Knight’s front room.

Reyanel hops off the bone beast, muttering to himself.  He's practically radiating fury but once he comes upon the house it dissolves into a quick panic and worry.  Going up to the door, he tests the knob... unlocked. ....Dyrihm....... and just SLAMS open the door. "Dyrihm?!"

Dyrihm JUMPS. There's a clatter of something dropping in the kitchen, and he comes dashing down the hall in his shirtsleeves and bare feet. "What? What's wrong!?"

Reyanel looks around, eyes falling on Dyrihm and he breathes out a sigh of RELIEF.  "Bless the Light, holy fuck." Very eloquent of you, Reya.  Then he blinks.  "Were ya sleepin'?"

Dyrihm shakes his head, looking highly concerned. "No, I was- doing dishes, is everything- Are you all right?"

Reyanel waves his arms, gesturing wildly.  "Yes. No.  Yes?" He growls something to himself. "Fuck off, Rey."

[Reyanel]: Point is. YA.  Are so in deep shit.  Nob talk to ya yet?

Dyrihm crosses his arms. "He came by last night..." Dyrihm runs a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Trevarde's an old friend of mine, which was not a hunch I wanted to be right. And he's sure been reporting to the Blade..." Dyrihm looks a little pale.

Reyanel points at one of Dyr's fancy tauren chairs.  "Sit. Ya might wanna sit.  And I'm gonna force Rey to talk even if I have to drag 'em out, cause I am NOT playin' messenger when he didn't fuckin' listen to me."

Dyrihm 's worry is only increasing as he takes a seat. He sighs, resigned. "What did he do?"

Reyanel taps his foot rapidly, "Fuckin' stupid shit.  Fuckin--" He breathes in sharply.  He's calm.  Very. Calm.  No he isn't.

[Reyanel]: Ya sure ya friends with that priest shit?

Dyrihm grimaces. "No. I used to be, but we haven't spoken since I became a Knight. It's been a long time."

[Reyanel]: Like, used to be, used to be?  Time made ya part ways or was it like...bad shit and ya aren't friends.

Reyanel has so many Opinions and is ready to fucking Go.

Dyrihm worries his lower lip. "We didn't have a falling out or anything like that- but I don't really know what they were told about my... uh. Death. So I don't know."

[Reyanel]: Well, ya past friend or whatever the fuck he is, is a fuckin' snitch.

Reyanel plants his feet firmly.  Rey ya better get fucking out here or he'll drag you out, he swears to the Light.

Dyrihm sighs. "Nob said he was reporting to the Blade..."

[Dyrihm]: But-! Nob said he found a note about Trevarde having figured out you were Wraith, and it wasn't in any of the reports! Maybe it's... not as bad as we think.

Reyanel 's entire face is just one whole page of Doubt.

Dyrihm doesn't look like he believes what he's saying very much- just that he wants to. He Wants to Believe.

[Reyanel]: I dunno what's goin' on about with that.  Speakin' of fuckin' Rey, get ya fuckin' ass out here cause this is all your DAMN fault.

Reyanel stumbles as Reya just TEARS HIM OUT OKAY REYA VOID.  He shudders all over.  "Uh. Okay, first, it's not entirely my fault."

Reyanel | Uhuh.

Dyrihm watches the expression change on Rey's face as he appears. With the way Reya was acting, this can't be good. "What. Did. You. Do."

Reyanel winces.

[Reyanel]: I went after Knight Solis.

Reyanel clasps his hands behind his back, standing straighter.

Dyrihm clasps his hands on his knees. "Rey, what happened? Reya burst in here like he was afraid he'd find me dead or missing, Light."

[Reyanel]: I mean. Personally, I think Reya needs to calm down.  It's not that bad.  Yet.

Reyanel | YOU calm down, fuck off, Rey.

Dyrihm sighs. "Yet?"

Reyanel matches Dyr's sigh with a tight one of his own. "Yet.  If Trevarde comes to the conclusion you're turning traitor against the Ebon Blade--" Hah.  Like him. "Then Solis will take...measures."

[Reyanel]: Best case scenario, you get sent up to Archerus.

[Reyanel]: Worst case....the Citadel.

Dyrihm blanches. "What!? That can't be right- we still answer to the Ebon Hold, not-"

Reyanel stares at Dyrihm, expression strained.

Dyrihm stays quiet for a long moment, before saying, quietly, "What the fuck are we gonna do?"

Reyanel crosses his arms, speaking carefully. "Trevarde's doing his damn best to get any information on you.  But..." Rey pauses with a faint grimace that passes quickly. "Solis thinks I'm on his side.  A pair of eyes on City Knights."

Dyrihm stares at Rey. "You- you convinced him you'd help him. That's... that could be useful, but-" he makes a frustrated noise. "We can't send anything that contradicts Trevarde, and you can't exactly go CHAT with Trev, can you?"

[Reyanel]: Well, technically I didn't convince him -I- was helping him.  I could try going to Trevarde as...my cover..but I don't know if it'll hold.

Dyrihm sighs. "That's... that's risky, Rey. If he recognizes you- I don't want you getting hurt."

[Reyanel]: Yeah, I don't really PLAN on doing it.

Reyanel blows out a tight breath.

[Reyanel]: It's not a good situation.  Trevarde tipped Solis off of his own accord.  And Solis is....

Reyanel brings a hand up to run through his hair restlessly. "Not exactly all about the Blade's disposition."

Dyrihm puts his head in his hands. "So he's... got his own agenda. I don't know why Trevarde is out to get me, but- at least we have a history? I don't know Solis!" Dyrihm sounds like he'd love it if this were all some kind of mistake.

Reyanel frowns, watching Dyr.  "If we can manage to keep Trevarde's information clean, it won't matter if you don't know Solis.  For now, Trevarde's the one we should be worried about."

Reyanel sighs. "The Corps will figure something out.  We're not about to just let the Blade walk all over you.  I won't stand by for that."

Dyrihm 's eyes widen, just a little. "I can't just drag everyone into this, Rey. But I-" He sighs, and straightens, seeming heartened. "Thank you. Maybe Maul and Varun will have some ideas of how to tailor information, use you to get Trevarde to have nothing concrete."

[Dyrihm]: I keep saying to Nob, I could try to talk to him.

Reyanel nods.  Hey, his odd comfort-not comfort sort of worked. Thank the void.  "Nob's a good bet." He says. "I plan on talking to the Executor and Varun later.  I have...a report to give on this."

Reyanel has...a lot of feelings about that report.

Dyrihm shifts a little in his chair. "No, I mean- I could try to talk to Trevarde."

[Reyanel]: Absolutely not.

Reyanel stares at Dyr.

[Reyanel]: Are you mad? The man set some Lich King worshiping Ebon Knight in charge of the investigation on you.  Absolutely not.

Dyrihm mouths "The Citadel," and then "Fuck." Audibly, he says "No, Rey- what if I can find out what his problem with me is? I don't know, explain myself."

[Reyanel]: If you go, you're not going alone.  Take Nob with you.  I still don't think it's a good idea though.

Dyrihm sighs. "I know. That's what he keeps saying, too. I'm not going to do anything quite that stupid."

Reyanel watches Dyr for a moment.  "...Be careful, Dyrihm."

Dyrihm puts his head in his hands. "I'll... start locking the door."

[Reyanel]: Honestly, Dyrihm. Please do.  I don't even NEED to go through your walls.  It's frankly ridiculous, please think about your security more.

Reyanel is doing his best to not sound...Too Concerned.  Reya whacks Rey mentally.

Dyrihm waves a hand. "I was up and about, and I- I want to be available to you all if you need me." He sighs. "I should... really get around to warding, too."

[Reyanel]: You......you don't have wards.

Reyanel DEFINITELY sounds concerned.

[Dyrihm]: I have two drakes and a kodo.

[Reyanel]: That's not going to help against, say, myself!  Dear void, Dyrihm.

[Dyrihm]: Of course it wouldn't, they KNOW you.

Reyanel SIGHS.

Reyanel throws up his hands a second later.  "Get your wards up, dear VOID, Dyrihm"

Dyrihm sighs. "I know," he relents. "But it hasn't been a concern until now."

[Reyanel]: I am....Unbelievable.  I can't believe you didn't ward the place the second I stepped through the wall.

Reyanel mutters, "Honestly."

Dyrihm looks down at his knees. "It didn't occur to me to ward against YOU, and I didn't have a shadow priest with a grudge out to sell me up the river to the Blade last time you did that!"

[Reyanel]: It's not that it's against ME.  It's a security risk, Dyrihm!  I'm surprised someone hasn't snuck in here and robbed you blind or planted a tracking device!

Reyanel blinks. Wait.  Maybe they did.  He starts walking around, combing the place with a fine layer of shadow.

Reyanel is being oddly protective, please ignore him.

Dyrihm trots after Rey, bare feet thudding on the wooden floor. "Rey, are you serious- who is going to rob a house with two bone drakes in the yard?" Rey does not notice anything amiss as he searches. It's clean.

Reyanel eases quite a bit when he finds nothing. Thank the void. "Quite frankly, Dyrihm? I would." He deadpans over at Dyr as he circles around to Dyr's chair. "Lucky for you, I don't think they got anything in here. Still. Wards and locks, Dyrihm, void's sake."

Dyrihm sighs. "Of course you would," he replies, flatly. "I'll... speak with Maul about the wards." He reaches out to clap Rey on the shoulder. "Hey. Thanks. For worrying about me."

Reyanel has been touched. He feels awkward, shifting on his feet. "Yeah.  I'll mention it to once I see him." He shuffles. "Reya's worried sick, alright, so don't get into more trouble."

[Dyrihm]: I don't plan to. Honestly.

Reyanel sighs, shifting. Is the hand gone?

Reyanel doesn't know how to feel about this affection when he literally just spoke like pals with a Lich King loving fucko.

Dyrihm doesn't know that you got Solis to agree to let you help him by NOT lying to him. He trusts, you, Rey.  

Dyrihm removes the hand, crossing his arms. "Do you want me to come too, when you report to Maul and Varun?"

Reyanel doesn't trust his fucking self.

Reyanel blinks.

[Reyanel]: I--No, I think it will be alright.  I'd just be repeating information you already know.

Reyanel | And some you don't.

Reyanel doesn't plan on breaking the illusion because he's like that.

Dyrihm nods. "All right. I'll try to catch them later, then, after they've gotten your report."

Reyanel shrugs. "You do what you have to do.  Don't talk to Trevarde alone." He STARES at Dyr.  Got it?  He'll repeat it again.

[Dyrihm]: I won't! Light, I get the point! Why do you and Nob both think I would!?

Dyrihm | It's obvious why.

Reyanel just...stares at Dyrihm in disbelief.

[Reyanel]: It's YOU, Dyrihm.

Reyanel | A great answer.

Dyrihm frowns, pulling a face. "What does that mean?"

Reyanel smiles back blithely. "You have a habit of putting yourself on the line when you don't need to."

Dyrihm can't argue with that. "Ah. Well..." He sighs, and then laughs softly, and smiles. "I won't this time. I'm in your hands."

Reyanel breathes out. "Good."  A bit of tension actually leaves him.  It was bothering him more than he was letting on.

[Dyrihm]: Don't- don't YOU do anything too risky, though, all right?

[Reyanel]: Dyrihm, I literally just DID something risky.

Reyanel raises a brow at Dyr.

Dyrihm grumbles. "I'm aware, I just mean- don't let this go too far, on my account."

Reyanel | Too late.

Reyanel shrugs. "I think you'll find that a lot of us are here for you, Dyrihm.  We protect our own, like Varun says."

Dyrihm looks a little surprised, but pleased. "Hopefully he knows the sentiment is echoed."

Reyanel knows what he's about.  Trust him. COMMUNICATE.  GOSH.  He'll lock more people in rooms together.  "Hopefully."

Dyrihm smiles. "He's doing better, then?" he asks, changing the topic.

Reyanel nods, grateful for the change.  Dear void, he had almost broke his silence on the information. "Yes, I think so."

[Reyanel]: It took a bit but..we're both better.  I never really got to thank you for the other night.  Still.  Thank you for that.

Dyrihm honestly looks relieved. "I'm glad- and of course, Rey." He grins. "We take care of our own, after all."

Reyanel snorts. "Sure do.  What about you?" You're not off the hook either.

[Reyanel]: You alright, Dyrihm?  Seeing you tense all the time gives me headaches just watching.

Dyrihm can't exactly brush Rey off, now. "Well, I think I've been less jumpy, but this business with the Blade isn't helping." He sighs, and looks at Rey, face open and honest. "I'm terrified. For myself, and- I don't know what Frost is going to do if something does happen to me. If he'll get himself into trouble. If you ALL get yourselves into trouble."

Reyanel 's brows furrow. "If...If something does happen to you." Void, Strider.  "You know we're going to try to prevent anything from happening to you as much as we can, right."

Reyanel breathes out.

[Reyanel]: If something does happen.  I don't know if I'll be much help in wrangling Strider but...I can't see him NOT doing something.

Dyrihm sighs. "I know. I can't see it either. But, Light- thinking about talking to him about it, or writing a letter or something- that feels too fucking fatalistic."

Reyanel hesitates. "Dyrihm.  Have you not spoken to him about what's happening?"

Dyrihm waves his hands. "No, I just talked to him last night- I may have... downplayed the life-threatening bits, but he knows the Blade is looking into me."

[Reyanel]: Oh thank the void.

Reyanel runs a hand through his hair. "Got worried there for a second.  Void, if I knew that--If I was in Frost's place...I wouldn't want to be left in the dark about something like this."

Dyrihm nods. "I know. I can't imagine- if he didn't know until things got worse, what that would be like. I just don't want him doing something reckless."

Reyanel can't help a snort. "He would do something." Reckless fluffy moo. "I just...I don't want to be entirely pessimistic about this whole thing. But you know my feelings on the Blade. And I think that...planning ahead for EVERY possibility might help in the long run."

[Reyanel]: Luck has it, most of those plans won't happen at all.

Dyrihm sighs. He almost sounds- relieved. "I don't either, but... we should discuss possibilities. I'd rather face the fact that I might- that things could go very badly, than not have discussed it at all."

Reyanel nods. "Exactly." Pausing, he procures a notebook?  Or was it a folder? From a length of shadow.  Flipping through, he finds a blank parchment. "It's best be prepared for every eventuality.  Like the worst case.  And the best."

[Reyanel]: Best? Nothing fucking happens.  And we can all go home perfectly content.

Reyanel would be really grateful if that happened but he knows better and distrusts the Blade and Solis both.

Dyrihm laughs. "Yeah, I like that plan. That's a good plan."

[Reyanel]: My favorite.

Reyanel deadpans up but his lips twitch into a faint smirk.

[Dyrihm]: Worst case- you said the Citadel.

[Reyanel]: Yeah. Worst case, Solis diverts you to his...contacts there.

Dyrihm 's letting his businesslike attitude take over. "That sounds like it's out of Blade hands, and into whatever Scourge leftovers are up in Icecrown working for the new Lich King."

Reyanel breathes in quietly as he writes, he's taking actual notes.  What the fuck, Rey.

[Reyanel]: Yeah..

Reyanel shakes his head. "He spoke of soul harvesting.  Which would be...truly a worse case scenario."

[Dyrihm]: So, good and bad. Fucking terrible for me, frankly. Probably, what, torture, experi- oh good. Yeah.

[Dyrihm]: Well, hey, I've got that whole 'loose soul' problem going on, maybe I can just want to die enough to fuck off before they harvest me.

Dyrihm is a little too casual about this.

Reyanel stares at Dyrihm.

[Reyanel]: .......If it comes to that.  That's something.

Reyanel ....writes it down.

Dyrihm clasps his hands in front of him. "Should I be- probably a better question for Maul, but- should I be expecting the Corps to come for me? The Citadel, maybe possible, but extremely dangerous. Acherus? Probably impossible."

[Reyanel]: You should expect it.

Reyanel stares hard at Dyrihm.

[Dyrihm]: Huge risk, for one person.

[Reyanel]: I'll bring backup.  Aka. The Corps.

Reyanel sighs.

[Reyanel]: I'd almost prefer the Citadel over Acherus but...if we don't make it in time, Acherus would be better.

Dyrihm laughs, softly. "All right. Well, if not the Corps entire, a few of you, certainly. That's good."

[Dyrihm]: I- I don't want to end up at the Citadel, but... that's a worse case for me, better for you.

Reyanel will fucking bring the entire Corps.  You silly, silly death knight.

[Reyanel]: Yeah.

Reyanel sighs. "I...It'll depend on where they bring you there.  But if they do..."

Reyanel shakes his head and writes something down under the Worst Case Scenario tab. "Regardless.  If they take you, we're coming after you." Plain and simply stated.  "So. If they do.  Remember that."

Dyrihm nods. "I will." He sighs. "Okay. Soul harvesting. That's not going to be good, either- what's Solis using them for?"

[Reyanel]: For the glory of the Lich King and his new Blade that Solis wants to see upraised.

Reyanel answers relatively easily, penning something about Legal Documents under the same tab he's been writing under.

Dyrihm grimaces. "All right, well- Just don't, uh-" He stares at Rey, grim. "Don't let the Scourge have me again. If you can't get to me in time, if they... change me."

Reyanel meets Dyrihm's gaze, pen pausing.  "I won't." He promises, just as solemn. "I won't let them have you if they try or manage to change you.  I won't."

Dyrihm nods. "Good. Okay." He lets out a shaky breath. "So, Acherus- might be worth trying diplomatic options instead of breaking in. Maybe get me freed as a Forsaken military combatant or something."

[Dyrihm]: That's obviously not going to be an option with the Citadel.

[Reyanel]: No, it won't be.

Reyanel says sardonically but he writes another tab out.

[Reyanel]: We can try diplomacy.  Worst comes to worst with that one, we break into Acherus.  Done it before, can do it again.

[Dyrihm]: We only managed it because we were able to sneak in as Knights. It wouldn't be as easy.

[Reyanel]: That's true.

Reyanel lets out a long, drawn-out sigh.

Dyrihm sighs back. "You're going to do it anyway."

[Reyanel]: You know me so well.

Reyanel flashes a smirk at Dyr.

Dyrihm can't help but laugh. "I'd do the same."

[Reyanel]: Well, see there we go.

Reyanel taps a note on his paper.  "Dyrihm." He sobers. "You might want to consider writing any legal documents if you haven't already."

Dyrihm blinks. "I- like a will? I don't really have much-" He looks around him. "Well. Not that true anymore. You... make a good point. And maybe I should prepare a letter for Frost. Just... in case."

[Reyanel]: I think you should, Dyrihm.  Just in case.

Reyanel sighs. "Better prepare than have nothing waiting in the end at all."

Dyrihm nods. "Prepare for every possibility."

[Reyanel]: Exactly.

[Dyrihm]: Well, until then- we can delay by trying to prevent Trevarde from getting information.

[Dyrihm]: We could try to stop correspondence between Trevarde and Solis, or between Solis and whoever he's reporting to.

Reyanel flips a page over to begin a new section. "Trevarde's attempts at getting information from us haven't worked very well so far, I think.  We'll need to keep that up.  Or carefully lay information down."

[Reyanel]: We could, also, just kill Solis.  But I think his death might get the Blade looking more closely.

Dyrihm nods. "That might draw more attention than we want, yeah."

Reyanel | See, Reya? He didn't completely fuck up.

[Dyrihm]: I still think there might be merit in talking to Trevarde directly- even if it's the Corps and not me.

[Dyrihm]: We're missing something about his motivations.

Reyanel nods with a Sigh but writes this down.

[Reyanel]: That is true.

Dyrihm sighs, leaning back in his chair. "Well. This actually- helped."

Reyanel closes his notebook/folder.  Maybe it was just a binder.  "I'm glad."

Dyrihm starts ticking items off on his fingers. "So, better locks, start using them. Ask Maul about wards. Write a will and farewell letters, depressing but necessary. Don't do anything Trevarde could use against me."

[Dyrihm]: The rest is up to all of you.

Reyanel nods. An impressive list but necessary. "I'll be filing my own report and try my best to help.  The Corps is here for you, Dyrihm." Oddly formal but, Rey doesn't really know how he can just say, hey, it'd really suck if you died.

Dyrihm nods. "Keep me posted. And- Light, Rey, thank you."

[Reyanel]: You're welcome, Dyrihm.

Reyanel flashes a brief genuine smile. "Stay safe, alright?" And he starts making his way out of the house he just barged into without a warning.

[Dyrihm]: You too.

[lilithhawthorne]

Title: Blood of the Brotherhood Fandom: Mass Effect: Andromeda  Relationship: Sara Ryder x Jaal Rating: M Chapter: 2/? Fandom: ME:A Cross posted on A03 / FFN First // Previous / Next

Huge shout out to @thesassblr for editing and helping to turn some of my weird sentences into real words! 

Snippets of conversation invaded her dreams.

“This is not going as planned.”

She was lost in a cave, or maybe it was a never ending series of tunnels designed to keep her angry and confused. The floor was slick and spotted with puddles, making it difficult for her to keep her footing. The sounds of her feet sloshing as she searched for a way out echoed all around her.

“It was a bad plan to begin with.”

Should she go left or right? Hadn’t she been down this tunnel before? It was dark and she was cold. Her suit had been stripped away piece by piece, leaving her shivering in her thin, Initiative issued uniform. Out of the corner of her eye she tracked the movement of her crew as they followed her. They ghosted through walls or fell through the ground if she tried to reach out to them.

“I told you this was a bad fucking idea,” Liam said. His lips moved out of synch and he smiled.

“And I told you to stand down! If she dies, I swear…“ she couldn’t understand what else Drack meant to say, his words trailing off into a series of elaborate threats.

“She’s not going to die. Thankfully you’re a terrible shot, but you all are driving me mad. I’ll call you as soon as she wakes.” Lexi tapped away at her data pad, not bothering to look up. “That’s it, Ryder,” she cooed, “you’ll be just fine, just fine….”

Darkness and silence welcomed her back into their midst.

Ryder raised a hand to block the light shining in her face.

“Aaaaand she’s awake! Easy now - here, let me help you up.” Rough, cold hands slipped under her arm, helping her to sit up despite the cramp that numbed her right side.

It took a moment for her to adjust to the light, and sitting up straight was a stomach clenching experience in nausea. She counted footsteps as they receded, trying to pull herself out of a fog that clouded every sense. Once the world stopped spinning and she could think beyond her rolling stomach, she assessed her surroundings with a shrewd eye.

First, she noticed how small the room was; crates and boxes were stacked all the way to the ceiling, with some tipped on their side to fill every inch of space. It was an organized mess, everything arranged specifically to leave the center of the room clear.

Second, she noticed the door, only a few strides away from the foot of the cot she was sitting on. The light was green, the hum of power flowing through it just barely audible in the silence.

Third, she noticed the smell and gagged immediately. Her already rolling stomach pitched in protest. It was a thick, ripe smell that was cloying in its overwhelming power. It reminded her of boot camp, about three weeks in, when the smell of everyone’s rank bodies had saturated itself into the walls of the bunker.

Someone laughed, a high pitched laugh that made Ryder think of a storybook princess. “I’m sorry, you’ll get used to it eventually. It always smells like that.”

Ryder swiveled her head to search for the owner of that musical laugh. She locked onto the tail end of a thick, blonde braid and followed it up to the source. A woman stood with only her profile visible, her face intently studying a terminal, her fingers moving tapping a rhythmic pace against the keyboard. Her foot tapped in tune to an unheard song.

Wearing her best stink eye, Ryder cleared her throat, hoping to warrant enough attention that the woman looked at her. All she got was a raised eyebrow and a slight head tilt. “I’m listening,” the woman assured her.

When sulking in the silence warranted no additional response, Ryder gave up and asked a neutral question: “Where am I?”

“You are in my office slash operating room slash med bay.” The woman laughed again and finally turned to face Ryder. Her cheeks and nose were red, like she had recently given them a good scrub and accidentally took a little more off than just dirt. And while her broad shoulders gave a hint of what she used to look like, she had long since withered away, her arms and legs too long and spindly, her collarbone prominently displayed in a loose fitting tank top.

Despite herself, Ryder found it easy to relax in the warmth of those brown eyes and couldn’t help but return the woman’s toothy smile.

Then she remembered the way Jaal’s voice cracked with anguish as he dove from cover, the look of rage on his face a fraction of a second before she felt the hot tendrils of pain.

More than just the memory of pain followed. Gasping for air, her lungs constricting, she struggled to keep from crying out. She ran her hands over her body, exploring her sides and lower back, trying to find a source of the pain.

“Oh, easy there!” The doctor pulled Ryder’s hands away, squeezing them in a grip that felt too strong for such a slender frame. “You’re okay… but I think the sedatives are wearing off. You were shot, do you remember?”

Ryder no longer trusted those eyes. She wrestled her hands free and shoved at the woman hard enough to send her to the ground. “Yeah I remember being shot!” she screeched, her pain and panic mingling to create a toxic feeling that ate away at her composure.

Not willing to lose the advantage, she rolled from the bed and stumbled towards the door. The doctor yelled something, her words too jumbled and rushed to make sense. It was either a plea for Ryder to come back or a plea for help.

“Open you piece of shit!” She pressed against the door, struggling as if she could push herself through solid metal if she only tried hard enough. As soon as there was a space big enough for her to get through she darted out, her knees and elbows banging against the edges of the door as she did. There would be time later to figure out where she was and what she needed to do. Right now she needed a place to hide.

“Not so fast, girly.”

Thick arms wrapped around her hips, her captor hoisting her in the air with not even a grunt to suggest it was difficult. She dug her nails into hairy forearms and braced her feet against the wall, pushing off with as much force as she could manage. Whoever was holding onto her tripped and fell backwards, but their grip was still tight enough that she went with them.

The sensation of skin tearing along her lower back startled her and she felt something warm soak into the fabric of her thin tee. She writhed and gnashed her teeth, clawing at her captor in another attempt to free herself.

“Stop!” The familiar voice of the doctor floated down the hall towards them, her plea almost drowned out by the sound of her feet clunking as she stumbled towards the struggling pair. “You’re going to hurt her Murphy, let her go.”

Murphy did as he was bid, though it was a not so friendly shove that sent her rolling to the ground. “Doc, she nearly broke my neck!” he whined as he climbed to his feet.

“Oh boo hoo,” Ryder mocked as she struggled to find her own footing, backing up to put distance between the two of them. “That’s what you get for grabbing me like that.”

“Oh yeah? Well that’s what ya get fo’ runnin’!”

“Oh, well, I guess that’s what you get for - “

“This conversation is over,” the doctor cut in, inserting herself physically between the two. Ryder had puffed her chest out to make herself look bigger, finally making use of her stink eye. Murphy, who was as thick as a Krogan and likely just as thorny, didn’t look too put out.

The doctor took the time to give them both a withering look before turning her back to Murphy, her focus softening as she looked Ryder up and down. “Did you feel your stitches rip?” she asked, an obvious hint of worry in her voice.

Stubborn and distrustful, Ryder crossed her arms over her chest and scuffed her foot against the ground. “No,” she lied. Like hell she was going to let that woman touch her again.

Clearly not fooled, the other woman merely tilted her head and offered another toothy grin. “That’s good. I was able to staunch the bleeding and we had enough medi-gel to spare that it healed almost completely. It just needed a little help.” She pressed two fingers together to mime skin knitting back together and winked.

“Waste, if ya ask me,” Murphy mumbled behind her.

That was a shared sentiment, although Ryder did a good job of looking offended by the assumption she was a waste. Medi-gel had made up a sizable percentage of packed medical supplies, but the goal had never been to bring enough to sustain the effort, only enough to see them through until they could make more planetside. With a different source of resources to draw from, the Andromeda quick fix gel was sadly lackluster when compared to its predecessor.

“Please, if you would,” the doctor took a step back and motioned for Ryder to follow. “Lonny is waiting for us. He will be able to answer your questions.”

Not waiting for Ryder’s response, the doctor turned on her heel and bustled down the hall, though she slowed down to give Murphy a playful pinch on his arm. As an afterthought she called over her shoulder, “My name is Lia but you can just call me Doc. Everyone does.”

Ryder considered her options. She could try to run again, but the pain in her back was quickly becoming more than a minor annoyance, and it was doubtful she would make it very far. Murphy might not be so gentle next time and he could easily squish her head between his massive, hairy knuckled hands.

On the other hand, she could follow through with the plan that had led her down this road to begin with. It would be in her best interest - both in the short term and if there was ever any hope of there being a long term - to con Lonny into thinking she would be willing to work with them. She started out after Lia, stopping briefly when she crossed paths with Murphy. “Don’t call me girly,” she snapped.

Murphy grunted, keeping his arms crossed and his head low.

Trailing after the fast walking doctor, she committed every turn they took and every door they passed to memory. They had yet to pass by a window, but the floors and walls were too quiet to be a ship, so she knew they had to be grounded.

Lia finally came to a halt and waited patiently for Ryder to catch up. “Now that we’re clear of Murphy, I should tell you that I know your stitches tore. Would you let me look at them, please?” She pulled something out of her pocket that looked like a syringe and balanced it on her open palm. “I only stitched you up because I needed to wait a few hours to administer another one of these, but it’s been long enough that I can give you a quick jab and be done.”

“Jab is a real unfriendly term, Doc,” Ryder said gruffly, her shoulders raised in agitation. “Is that the official medical vernacular?“ Why couldn’t this woman be a normal evil doctor, one that left her bleeding and hurt?  

“Out here it is.” Lia tossed her braid over a shoulder and took a step forward. When Ryder didn’t run or put up her hands for a fight, Lia motioned with fingers for her to spin around.

Ryder did as she was bid and rolled her shirt up to expose her back to an alleged doctor who was approaching with what she claimed to be a canister of medi-gel. Worst case scenario she got stabbed in the spine, but at least then all the confusion about her motives would be resolved.

“This is going to be cold.”

Ryder twitched when she felt Lia’s hand alight on her waist. “Your hands or the gel?”

Lia laughed apologetically while spreading a thin layer of gel over the puckered, angry looking wound. “Both, sorry. Well, that’s done then. You’ll have a scar, I think, but there was no internal bleeding. You’ll be sore for the next few days and you’ll need to - “

More aggressively than needed, Ryder spun around and tugged her shirt back down. She held out a hand to stop Lia and motioned to the door behind her with a jerk of her head. “I don’t need medical advice. Let’s get this over with.”

A flash of - discomfort? regret? Ryder couldn’t name it - crossed Lia’s features before disappearing behind an apple cheeked smile. "Of course. Let’s go see Lonny.”

Turning back towards the door, she pressed her hand against the screen of a terminal, tapping her foot again as she waited for the scan to complete. The door slid open and the two stepped over the threshold, each wearing a similar look of glum foreboding now that they thought the other couldn’t see.

This room at least didn’t smell as bad, though it featured worse company. The short man who had faced off against Ryder was seated at a desk, his deep set eyes already tracking Ryder’s movements towards him. There would be less confusion about his motives concerning her; a pistol took up a corner of desk space, his hands hands folded neatly next to it.

“Ryder,” he said, inclining his head to a chair across from him.

She took his direction and perched on the edge of her seat, feet flat on the ground, elbows on knees.

This room was small too, although poorly lit and nearly empty. Shadows darkened the corners and creeped into the pockets of space between two, waist high lamps. One side of Lonny’s face was dappled with shadows, the poor lighting emphasizing the sharp jut of his cheekbones. Ryder could see a nick over his lip, the only mar on his otherwise smooth, hairless face.

“I think,” he began slowly, “that I should begin by apologizing.”

“Oof, I might need more than that. Are you sorry that you tricked me into landing on an asteroid with a fake distress signal and then tried to kill me, or are you sorry that you shot me and almost killed me?”

“Lia assures me that you were never in any real danger of dying. Nothing vital was hit.” He winced, his words unconvincing even to his own ears. “I don’t have any interest in harming you. What happened was an unfortunate consequence. Our situation has become dire.”

“Excuse me if I find that hard to believe.” Ryder glowered and folded her arms across her chest. “If you really had any interest in ‘working’ with me, you could have approached me like a normal person. I have an email address.”

He shook his head. “That was not an option. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about the way things happened.” A terse pause followed and he chewed on his next words before speaking. “The other two made it back to the ship unharmed. I kept my word.”

Relief flooded through her on a current too powerful to hide. When she felt her jaw start to tremble she clenched her teeth, schooling her face back into a mask of disinterest. “I guess I can’t be too upset that you shot me. After all, I didn’t explicitly say that you couldn’t. I should have listed it with my demands. What a learning experience this has all been.”

The carefully constructed air of friendliness that Lonny had colored his tone with leeched away as his face fell into a mask of fury. “You have no idea what we’ve been going through down here!” he hissed at her. “I’m sure Addison and Tann were happy they were able to cast so many of us off the station, it sure cut down on costs.”

“Save your - “

“Shut up!” he roared, rising with such force that his chair shrieked in protest as it scraped across the floor. “You don’t get an opinion on this. You weren’t there, you didn’t see what we did. That hasn’t stopped you from taking up the Nexus’ banner, though, has it?”

He crossed from behind the desk and made his way towards Ryder. Before she could rise and put distance between them, he was standing over her, his hands pressing into her shoulders to hold her in place.

“I’ve been watching you, Pathfinder Ryder.” The word Pathfinder slid off his tongue, his mouth puckering as he tasted how sour the word was. “You’ve brought hope to a lot of people. I think it’s about time you share the vision with us.”

Despite how much she wanted to pull herself free, stand and defend herself, she stayed seated, forcing her body to relax beneath the clap of his hands. She spoke around her clenched teeth, the words hissing in the air. “What do you want? Credits? Supplies? Tann won’t pay for me.”

“I want,” he said with a shake, “hope.”

[onyxdra]

The place that had been acknowledged as Skuldormu's nesting ground was relatively obscure and away from the prying eyes of inhabitants of Azeroth. Humidity often rose from the forest of bamboo from below. But it was quickly drilled into the whelplings' mind that - any other place was forbidden or discouraged. Not that she had made any valiant attempts yet.

But she was certainly considering it. There was hardly anything to work with in the tower, and having to spend time with her siblings often resulted in immediate boredom. Save for that of her sister, she chose to linger alone. Lowering her head, she felt the pain of growing teeth egg her to nibble at her newly brandished scales frequently. It made her feel like some dog. Slowly wanders around the small little area he made their home. Transforming into a dragon here for him was.. unwise. He'd be far too big not to draw attention to their little spot on the mountain. He was sitting inside on a comfy chair with his hand slowly rubbing the ears of a cute little bronze whelping. His blue eyes shimmered with love as he gazed at the small thing. Something.. something that will save us. He leaned down to kiss the head of the small little head of the whelping before standing up.

He began to wander outside checking on the whelpings outside. So far two of each flights had hatched exactly as expected. He stared at Onyxdra's back curiously. Everyone else was playing or reading while she was all alone despite having her sister to play with. He slowly walks behind her and places a gentle hand on the back of her head. He greets her with a sweet smile and what looks like genuine care. "What's wrong my ferocious girl?" He slowly moves to sit down next to her, staring off into the distance with her. He spoke extremely eloquently like every word was crafted to try to resonate with you. Onyxdra was just about satisfied with dulling the pain of her small fangs before feeling a hand on her head. Draconic slits flick upward at his arm before turning her head and moving to snap onto his arm. It was mostly playful, but also to stop the damn pain from getting the best of her. Though when she doesn't seem to catch his arm, she withdraws and scratches with her tiny arm along her belly and looks back over the hill's ledge.

"Bored." She answered curtly and shifted her tail behind her to steady herself as small wings fluttered behind her. Noting him sitting beside her, she seemed particularly aware that her actions were being monitored. Though, she didn't care so much as she hopped over the small retaining wall to have more freedom of space than the encircled area by the tower. "Nothing to do." He jerks his hand back so her tiny lil razor sharp teef didn't hit their mark. He chuckles at her when she recoils and starts scratching her belly. "Come now Onyxdra~ Have to be faster than that to catch me." He reaches over to try to pick the squirmy little black dragon baby up to put her in his lap. His hand moves down to scratch where her tiny little claw was itching so she didn't have too.

He nods softly when she speaks about her boredom. "Ah.. not taking to the books or enjoying the company of your sister?" He chuckles to himself. "And I supposed the sleepy greenies don't make for good conversation when they spend most of their time sleeping." He slowly begins petting you from your head all the way down your back trying to comfort you. "Then what is it you want to do Onyxdra since your family can't entertain you?" He asks quizzically at her. He let out a soft sigh as if sincerely worried that she has nothing to do. His instigating has her turning back to narrow her eyes at him. Even if she didn't keep eye contact with him, the goading inflection of a challenge was enough to warrant her focus. The itch hadn't been enough to distract her as she clenched her fangs and prepared for another nip. Though it was much easier since he was looking to pick her up anyway. Her snout found purchase in the sleeve of his robes. There was a light growl as she tugged against the fabric before the action paused when he found a place to scritch on her stomach. Her hind claw swept against the air beneath his arm as she leaned her head back and reluctantly released his sleeve.

"No," she answers with a high pitched screech. It was clear she liked making that typical response as her frills wiggled with the movement of her face when she turned to look away. At his joke about the green whelps, she'd snort. "They don't do anything!" Her body shifts upright to glare past him where they were sleeping. "How is that spending time or doing anything fun?" As he begins to pet her, she seems to relax momentarily. "Don't make me boring like the green whelps," she said - remaining relatively fiesty to his pampering.  

"As for what to do... I want to dig," she says matter-o-factly. "The rocks here look the same." He smiles softly at her when she starts biting at him. He wiggles his arm against her when she starts digging into his fabric. He tries to look worried and lets out a little scream, pretending like the small bite was hurting him. Of course his other hand would be very casually scratching her but he couldn't pass up a dad moment like this. "Oh is this what it takes to tame a firey black dragon?" He says in response to her leg beginning to thump at his scritches. He chuckles soft heartedly when she released him. Dawwww.....

He blinks when she says she doesn't enjoy the company of her black dragon sister. "Oh? And what's wrong with your sister? Out of everyone I thought you two would get along well." A slight frown appears on his face to show that he -was- sad for her not having a playmate. "They enjoy napping as much as you enjoy digging little one. Think.. what would it be like if I took away -all- the rock on the planet? Nothing for you to get your claws all dirty I-.." He looks up as if he was thinking and said to himself. "Well... if I -did- do that I would have to give you any more baths after you playing in the dirt." He looks down at her smirking waiting to see her 'NOOOOO!' response she was bound to have.

His petting stops for a moment as he thinks to himself. "Little one...you know you're free to dig around the tower as much as you'd like just.. cover it back up when you're done. Your brothers and sisters might fall in it... and.." He puts his hands on your lil waist and turns you around to look at you. He again was wearing a wide eyed smile. "Don't tell your sister.. but I -was- planning on taking you two on a lil adventure now that you mention it..." She seemed to like his makeshift suffering, but didn't seem to get enough satisfaction since he wasn't bleeding anywhere. Though, it was hard for her to recognize such instincts quite yet. Given that he was coddling her and not letting her anywhere near something to maim. Well, save for some siblings that looked at her funny. Her gaze looks down to the hand scratching at her underbelly scales. "No one can tame me!" She bellowed as if affronted by the very idea that she was a pushover. Snorting lightly, he'd feel the force of her warm breath.

"She's not strong," she'd comment boldly. "And we do get along. But I want to dig." Again, she shifts in his lap and then glances back at the sleepers. Despite his explanation, she seemed to shift her head back and forth as to mock what he was saying. Wa wa wa, they can be butts and sleep all they want. BUT I WANT MY SHINIES! Those were her thoughts exactly. She had noted the care he gave to the other whelps, but the jealousy hadn't manifested enough to warrant a demand for retribution. Instead, she'd eye him when he was talking about baths and being dirty.

"What?! Nooooooo!" She fumbles in his hold and looks to the nearest rock and reaches for it. Any means of comfort, and she was going to have it, damnit. "Why do I have to cover the holes? Its not like any of the other whelps come near where I go." Her claws casually scrape along the pebble she snatched up before he moves to grab her by the hips. She stares back at him with a blank look before the pebble in her claws drop to the ground in a heartbeat. "What! A TRIP!" She screeches with visible excitement, not really able to hold back the excitement as her hind claws kick in the air as her tail writhes behind her. "Where!"

He enjoyed fooling her just a little bit to make her happy and he always enjoyed the cuteness of a little whelp. He  wouldn't let her maim anything big yet.. though he did have some ideas. He scritches that special spot on her stomach just a little bit harder when she exclaimed that nooo-oone could tame -her-. "Oh of -course- not. No one can tame the mighty Onyxdra!" He wouldn't mind the warmness of her breath.. as along as she doesn't burn his clothes off.

He pulls his hand away after giving her tummy enough rubbin' before saying. "Come now little one.. don't speak about your sister like that. She's young and so are you.. she might grow up to be just as strong as you.. never stronger of course." He gets a little bit of joy out of her childlike panic. It almost seemed to give off the impression he enjoyed her little black drake attitude. "Your brothers and sisters -might- follow you more if you'd just stop biting them. Most of them just want to be your friend and who knows -some- might even enjoy your love of rocks." He looks at her cute little pebble she picked up. "Wouldn't you like a digging buddy?"

He pats and ruffles your scaly little head. "Don't worry I wouldn't dream of taking away your rocks. As long as you -and- your sister are good. You're from the same flight after all. You're responsible for her just like she is of you. For your well being -and- your happiness." He looked at her and spoke with an earnest tone. He'd said this many times before in hopes to instill this sense of kinship in the two of you. Maybe one day it'll work.  He puts a single finger in front of her mouth and shhh’ed her when she got excited about the trip. "Now now now.. hush or your sister might hear. We wouldn't be able to go if you ruined the surprise now would you?" he puts his hands back in his lap. "Settle down and I'll tell you~." She eyed him shrewdly, waiting for him to show more openings for a nip. But it never quite gets to that point as he continues to scratch the spot along her stomach. Though the pressure causes her to apply pressure on clenched fangs before laughter bubbles out from her snout and her claws scratch at the air and his arm to buffet any further tickles. "NEVER!" She cries out before squirming from his hand. If and when he withdrew his hand, she quickly scampered out of his arms to find space between them. The same huff from before escapes her nostrils as she eyes him warily.

"It's just a fact," she responds more dignantly before sitting on her hind legs more civily. "And if she does grow to be strong, only more reason for me to be stronger!" She nods her head curtly and reaches for her rock once more. Once it was within a place in front of her, she'd look at her siblings and psh lightly. "They won't follow me when they have you, so why bother trying? Besides, I don't want to get old like you." She sneered proudfully given her youth and bared her pearly whites with a hint of malice. "And they're MY rocks! They can't have!" Her head quickly glances from him as she pushes that very pebble she found beneath her claws. "My claws are my digging buddies."

Her expression only sours as he pets and ruffles her scales upon her head. "...Better not," she warned with typical dragon pride. Though that bit about her and her sister had her looking past the sea of bamboo below to the other portion of the Jade Forest. Though she was still excited about the prospect of going somewhere. And it was easy to be quiet when she was already in a mood. Her head tilted to the side as she watches his hands retreat back to his lap. Though, she was quite okay not saying anything. Both claws drifted over the surface of the rock below her as they scraped with a light chiseling sound. He chuckles softly as she starts giggling at him. As he eases up he gives her a curt nod and some more of his staple smile. "Mhm.. never tamed and -NEVER- conquered." He gives her a sly little knowing wink. Feeding that cute little ego of hers. He stands up at full height when she starts flyin' infront of him. Always has to be taller.

He shakes his head slowly when she said it was a fact. "Your sisters and brothers would love you -just- as much as I do if you give them a chance and maybe partake in some of the things they liked instead of just digging. Friends to keep your entertained are the best thing to hold you over after all." He nods again when she starts talking about this lil rivalry. "That's right little one.. but remember that power should be used to protect your weaker sister for now and soon." He puts a hand her tiny little claw with the pebble on it, closing it around the pretty pebble. "You'll be powerful enough to protect all of us.. even my old butt." He actually leans in and plants a kiss right on your forehead lovingly. He wanted to make sure that hit home with her. He chuckles softly at her. "And the ones you find are -your- rocks but not every rock is yours. Ontop of that your claws can't talk to you.. you need more than them to get you by."

Once she starts to space out when he talks about her sister he puts a hand on her to try to get her attention again. "I'm serious little Onyxdra.. you must always promise to take care of her. You two are.. the most unique two of your species alive right now." He crosses his arms before adding. "And I won't take you on this trip unless you promise this to me.. and begin to show it. In fact.. i'll take one of the greenies."

A vehement nod follows after his statement as pride swells in her features. "Yes, Onyxdra the Strongest!" Her posture hovers back towards the ground once her head stops inflating from his pampering praises. Though that demeanor changes when he reaffirms the idea of her siblings and grumbles lightly. "Love is icky!" She shakes her head as if cooties were being spewed from his mouth by just talking about it. Gross!

"And nothing wrong with digging! It's fun, and you find treasure! Friends are not treasure." She nods curtly and eyes him shrewdly. "Protect my sister? But if she's to be strong, she needs to protect herself! Just like me!" A claw gestures back at her underbelly. Someone was clearly in over her head. Looking down at his hand on her other claw, she tilts her head at his boldness to hold her hoard. Eyes narrow somewhat before he makes that silly comment about protecting his old butt. "BWAH! OLD BUTT COOTIES!" She curls up into a ball protectively over her rock, nudging his hand away with her snout.

As he states about the rocks not belonging to her, she makes a triumphant grin. "Oh yeah? Look at this rock!" She slowly unfurls and turns it over to show the mark she made on it. Several claw marks rested on the rock's surface that had a giant O and x look to it. "Mine! And my claws can talk, look!" She holds up her claws for him to see before she turns her head ever so slightly and throws her voice. "I'm Onyxdra's right hand claw! I dig up the shinies and make rocks come to her when she pleases." Then the left claw raises and flexes. "I'm lefty, cause I don't do things as good as right claw. So I'm the best at being dumb." 

Her focus then settles on him as he looks at the hand settling on her again. It was clear he distracted her thoughts again with his next statement. "Yeah yeah, I'll make sure she doesn't sleep forever like the green babies." Her eyes roll somewhat, and she then nods proudly. "Best dragons cause we're the strongest!" As he crosses his arms, she makes a wry grin. "Of course I promise." She seeks the area around them for her sister and frowns. "Where is sister?"