Interlude... Aerik and Pirahna

*Bored... Aerik was /bored/... and that is a dangerous thing for the telepath to be. He sits up in bed and glances over at the slumbering form of Nicky... a very well deserved rest, to be sure. Aerik had so much to rid himself of after absorbing a whole Razorshred, that he's sure he's been pushing the arrangement to its limits this last week or so. So instead of waking Nicholas /again/, he decides to let the poor man sleep... and smiles. Oh, Aerik has gotten rid of much the overspill by now, but not all... far from all. The literally constant demands have been abating slightly of late, just slightly, but Aerik was loathe to keep pushing Nicky chemically and mentally to keep up with him. So... Aerik stands carefully, quietly, and opens his senses a bit to navigate through the darkened room and to the door. He simply ghosts through this, into the hallway, and makes a path for his old room. Sai wasn't there, and by scent, neither was Teksi. Good. He wanted this private... can't be greedy, after all. Ghosting through /that/ door, he finds a chair in the shadowy corner and sits elegantly down, having dressed before leaving his joint chambers with the Reraizure. He smiles to himself... he recalls a young woman from the battle... one he shut down... and he touched her mind, he knows her now. With that, and a wicked little gleam in his amberblack eyes, he reaches for her, crosses the worlds to his own and connects... oh yes. There she was. A quick scan tells him much, and he proceeds with a kind of dreadful glee... not quite a sending as it is a touch, a bare brush against her mind... a command and compulsion... ~Come to me...~*

*She walks quickly down the hall, her face unusually devoid of its seductive smile, she doesn't even pause to do her usual flirting. She simply walks, heading to her new quarters. She enters her room, quickly locking the door, she stands there trembling. She leans against the door, her breathing rapid, almost panicky.* ...Its never failed before * She slowly slides down, resting her head on her knees. Fighting the panic that engulfs her, tears streaming down her face, marring her once perfect makeup*I ...I can't keep it up, I can't hide it anymo'...dey're gonna figer it owt *her control gone she slips back into her native brogue, a harsh gutteral sound that none would identify with her....but then, would they recognize the panicked form huddled before the door?* I neva failed an interrigatin befur *her mind reaches, striving vainly for the missing piece, the part that makes her unnatural, the piece that makes her one of the best at her job* Ooooh jeesis what am I gonna do? *she takes a shaky breath* what day gonna do wid me? * The thought of escaping...becoming one of them is appalling, they are beneath her…nothing more than toys...even in her current state they remain beneath her. .*.. she stops, mid thought as a voice enters her head, a strange one she doesn't recognize....but that has a touch of familiarity, a touch that almost scares...it calls…beckoning her to it....her tears stop, one hand brushing them away...the other tapping a sequence into her watch…then she vanishes, only to reappear in a strange room, before an even stranger creature*

*Aerik's brow raises... and he smiles in the shadows, knowing he'll be hard to see, swathed in the darkness. He blinks slowly, sensually. She was more resourceful than he'd given her credit for... but too soon, far too soon. His voice twines into her head, scrapes against thought like crushed velvet, eerie, lovely...*MS*()Why Miss Storm... you have been crying...()*amusement there, wicked delight, dark as the room. He offers no seat, nothing else for now. But oh, he's rifling through her mind, her memories, picking up every dark secret... every hate and desire. And if his body had vocal chords, he'd laugh now. So easy, this one. But a moment's distraction... yes, she'd be good for that at least...*

*she looks around the room, wondering for a brief moment why she had even come here...of all the places, why would she come to a dingy old tavern room.. her gaze brushes over a dim form in the shadows, what or who it is she cannot make out...then the voice enters her head…almost sensual as it caressed her thoughts...yet familiar, vaguely familiar…and that touch of familiarity brought with it a tinge of fear...she straightens, sensing she was under scrutiny…but a far worse...far more severe scrutiny than any GUARD had put her through*

*Aerik's smile deepens, darkens... its been a long time indeed since he's been in this room, yet its familiar to him... just as his mental strokes were to Rika... and she fears. Oh, lovely woman, you have right to be afraid... Aerik stands in a slow stretch, almost a slithering, erotic, graceful. While he has no attraction to Rika, he can appreciate her beauty, and she is beautiful. In the shadows, he blinks, eyes glinting gold like a cat. His form, still cloaked in the black of the room, barely made out, appears as a silhouette, tall, very tall, willowy, gorgeous. Demonic. Yes, very demonic, gorgeously so. Long black hair falls in silky inkiness down his back, to end at the small of it. He wears minimal jewelry, just enough to add to the oddly frightening and lovely vision he portrays here... his head tips as he regards her* MS*()Do you remember me, Rika? Do you know who I am?()

*she can see his movements...so graceful, so sensual...she envies that movement, would covet that ability...if she could…She watches the wonderful form, she gasps as she catches sight the golden gleam of his eyes...that in itself almost spell binding...the voice reenters her head, that gorgeously seductive voice, that terrifying voice* Nay…*she stops herself as she hears the harsh Gaelic tones of her native brogue brush the air…a voice she let none know, a part she kept hidden with her past…she composes herself. regaining her adopted well cultured voice* No, I do not know you *yet she lies…she senses familiarity, she knows you, yet she doesn't* should I?

*MS*()You are slipping, Rika... *its a gentle chide, amused, at her accent as it shows through, glimmers a moment, calls forward memories* Appearances are everything, and a voice.. it tells more even than the eyes, do you not agree?() *borrowed words, yes... Nicky has said something very similar when Aerik first displayed his own voice, using illusion. His sultry, dark voice. One Rika hears only in her mind, to spectacular effect, Aerik notes. He smiles in the shadows, showing a flash of white teeth, perfect, as the rest of his body* MS*()Never lie to a telepath, Ms. Storm. You insult us both... *again, the amusement thick* You do not know me? Oh, I think you do... I think you at least have an idea. *he pauses, shifts in position and grins at her now, smirking* Or perhaps your own vanishing charms have you distraught... is that it? Rika?() *he's pointing words at her condition... at her failure. Normal... /natural/...*

yes, it does *she is suddenly made aware of her own disheveled appearance…her tear streaked face, her ruined mascara, what else is lacking she fears to know* I do not…*she pauses considering her next words* it is only a fee.. *your barb hits hard...the reminder like salt on wounds, her face pales, and she trembles slightly* you…you know?

*Aerik smiles at her, panther-like... sleek and powerful in the shadows. Every motion is purposeful, frightening in its grace, languor... lazy almost* MS*() I will give you the benefit of the doubt... *drawing attention to her appearance* But I can see why you so desperately need your talents. *barbed words, casually sent, conversational. He moves again, sliding behind the chair to lean his forearms against the top of the back, watching her intently, focusing his lovely eyes on her alone* Know? My dear Ms. Storm... I know much. I know... you are well used. I know you are... *here, a double meaning, edged, vicious, but so sweetly sent* damaged goods.... () *his hair catches what little light there is sifting through the window, glimmers in his long mane, inhumanly fine, soft... inviting as the night. Pale skin also snags on the moonlight, glows gently on the planes of his delicate, beautiful face. Not enough to make him out, just show off his soft angles*

*She watches the panther-like movements, feeling/knowing that she is the prey…even then the very sensuality of him reaching her...his words hurt, gouging at her very core...revealing it…displaying it…all that she had kept hidden, the street urchin, the whore...yet the pain remains tinged with a golden haze of want...need…as the honeyed voice traces through her mind…his beauty in the shadows shames her, makes her feel once again the lowly street urchin*

*Eshvan eyes narrow, shine in the black, sparks of dark gold... his smile fades into something more controlled, wicked, piercing. He makes an elegant gesture towards her, almost a dismissal* MS*() And you have nothing to say, sweet Rika? No words to offer me? *a small, slight chuckle* I am holding the entire weight of this... conversation. *his eyes flash, bright, bright...* But then, speech was never your strong suit, was it? Certainly not one of your... endearing... qualities. A hands-on learner. How very... revealing () *his grin flashes along with his eyes, his head tips slowly to the side, snake-like, slow grace, and he straightens to full height* () You are an open book. You stand there and read yourself to me. You are too /easy/, Rika() *again, a barb to her integrity... he was enjoying this*

*She shivers with the knowledge that you know all and she nothing…she was used to being in control, being the one to name the rules…here he held all the cards..* She looks at him, the pain of this showing in her eyes…why hide what he will know...his eerie beauty striking a chord deep within her* What do want of me?

*Laughter, directly into her mind, a warm velvet wrap of it, edged in twisted barbs... scathing, soft...* MS*() I want exactly what you are giving me, Rika... and giving so very well. But then, that is something you are used to, is it not? Giving yourself to strangers. Ah, but perhaps you flatter me. All this for... free() *her pain is delicious, her confusion, her inability to defend herself, her lack of even trying... though surely he'd glean more pleasure from what he expects would be clumsy attempts anyway... all this, serves to amuse him further. But now, his sendings darken, strike deep, heated, red-hot. A shove into her psyche* () Tell me, Ms.Storm. Tell me what you would offer if I told you... I could give you back that which you lost...()

what I am giving you? *The blows you deal no longer have affect, she's adaptable that is how she's survived...She's not a fighter, never paid much attention to training…only the trainers...what she did remember was that a good telepath could kill her...she didn't want to die...that was the only thing she had ever truly fought against, death...death and old age are her only true battles...not this…she feels you rip into her psyche, almost forcing her to her knees...yet amongst the pain you offer her hope, a brief glimmer of light, she forces her gaze to meet yours* You could give it back? *the question tentative, but full of hope*

*Fight... Aerik doesn't often fight physically. Capable of it, yes.. but it bores him, really. Not at all what he enjoys engaging in, not without purpose at any rate. No, he fought other ways, he took pleasure other ways... and he doesn't answer her first question. Stupid thing to ask anyway, if she didn't already know. Instead, he makes a motion with his chin, just a tiny one, towards the mirror behind her, which sits over the vanity. His eyes gleam brightly and he slinks around the elegant little seat, takes up position there, indolent, graceful, amused* MS*() Careful, Rika... you give too much away in your words...() *and in her thoughts... a little push to look in the mirror.. and when she does look, she'll see her reflection... an old, haggard woman, impossibly ugly, skin sagging and drooping, wrinkled like crunched paper, hopeless... worthless... illusion, yes, but this is directly in her mind, not a link to Gild. Even touch will offer that this is truth... in her mind, to her body, she -is- an old crone.... hideous*

*She watches you move...elegant in form, sinuous like a snake, deadly yet beautiful...she glances in the direction of the mirror, unseeing, not wanting to see her reflection...puffy eyes, mascara down her cheeks, disheveled hair...yet, for some reason she looks and what she sees, horrifies her... a hand reaches up, tracing her face, her eyes staring...disbelieving in the mirror, then she feels the skin, the sagging flesh, the wrinkles* nay *she slips once again into her brogue…the one word, quietly stated yet emphasizing it all, her horror, her fear, her disgust...Her fist connects with the mirror cracking it, embedding shards into her hand, a blood curdling scream ripping from her throat* Noooo!

*Aerik's brows raise at the shattering mirror... the shriek of despair... and he smiles, so softly, he smiles* MS*() I am not paying for that mirror..() *he shields it from the rest of the tavern, of course, keeps it only to that room, so none will overhear and interrupt his playtime. He shifts in his chair, crossing one long, lean leg over the other, watching with amusement, dark eyes bright, attentive, yet mien claiming a cool demeanor, almost disinterest* MS*() I ask again, and for the last time, what would you offer me, Ms. Storm? If I took it all away... if I gave it all back. What are you willing to offer me?()

*Tears stream unchecked down her face... it was gone, all of it...nothing left for her, she might as well let the GUARD know...not even bothering to check her brogue* Ya di'it? ya did di ta me? *despair and anger intermingle, the two emotions almost indistinguishable* ya can fix it? gib me back whut is mine? *hope dimly surfaces, only to be dropped just as quickly* I got nuttin ya want, I'm at yer mercy.

*MS*() Oh, But you are a poor negotiator, Rika Storm... poor indeed. This, in itself, is telling...() *Aerik smiles softly, hands clasped and fingers templed, watching, observing... studying. Delighting. After a long moment, he stands again, walks nearer the distraught girl with her rough Irish brogue, scrutinizing. He pauses a few steps away, cocks his head, eyes blazing and focused.. still lost mostly in shadows as the whole room swarms with them, and stops there, silent and statue-esque... proud, pale in the moonlight. He doesn't say whether he took it or not, just smiles* MS*() oh yes... I can fix it. Quite easily. *his sending drops to a murmur against her mind, silky caress, like a touch* Yessss, Rika. Yes, you are completely at my.... /mercy/... ()*tiny twist there... did he even have mercy? It would be foolish to bank on it....*() You have not even attempted to try and barter...() *amusement high.. he would leave her like this too if it gave more enjoyment*

I be no negoti'tor * she has never bargained for something in her life, she didn't know how... what she wanted she took…or had someone take for her...in fact, too often she had relied on her men...they protected her, sheltered her, catered to her every whim...she was unaccustomed to such treatment...she was soft…she falls to her knees looking up beseechingly* please?

*Aerik would laugh, if he could. Instead, his eyes shine with amusement, clear and strong, brows raised high... he looks down at her, her softness, her inability.. her crippled self. Pathetic, she truly was. Even Aerik relied on him/self/... oh, he used others, to be sure, but he was far, far from soft. Far from sheltered, far from helpless. And here, this woman was begging, pleading, beautiful yet believing she was ugly, turned to her brogue, all facade of power and self confidence shed.. she was nothing. /Nothing/. Aerik half-grins, infuriating little gesture. *MS*() You make me ill, Rika. You weak, worthless, urchin. You make me ill() *so casually spoken, the tone so light, it might even take a moment to understand his sweetly sent thoughts are even insult. His lids shield his eyes, half mast, delight in every gesture... she, a simple distraction... some jester for his amusement... not even a pet, but a puppet. Aerik remains where he is, smiling down his straight, perfect nose at her* *MS*() I had expected more. Apparently, this means little to you. And my interest is waning()

*She is beyond insults, they no longer affect her…her pride and self respect long gone...her beauty that is something she never believed she possessed, it was all her powers, not her...* mo'? I have nutin mo'...with no powers I am nutin.. what do ya want? Me life? take it, it is worthless anyhow…Me soul? but if devil ya be, den ya know I have nun to offer ya.

*MS*()Your life... your soul... these do me no good. I do not /want/ them... as no one will want you() *again, soft, sweet.. gentle. Aerik leans at the waist, smiling down kindly on the poor girl. And now she might get a better look of him, just a bit... his beauty, his apparent youth, his demonically perfect features, his own grace, elegance... gorgeous. He looks like he's about to pat her head, praise her for being a good puppy... instead, he doesn't touch at all, just smirks in his way... his damnable way* MS*() You bore me. You are not even worth /this/ effort... leave my sight, crone... go home and weep () *then he straightens... but he's not yet done with her. He'd like to play more, later, see how far she can be pushed... and then push her some more. Oh yes... that might be amusing. A push in her mind, he tangles a few thought patterns, prevents her from taking her own life... he wants her yet alive, for his whims. And of course, she is the only one who sees her as ugly, still beautiful to all others, still desirable... unless she looks in a mirror. And then the illusion will hold. Aerik shakes his head at her, in seeming disappointment, turns, and begins to walk away, simply ghosting out, and leaving her behind, alone, in the dark...*

*Her breath catches at the sight of him, his feminine beauty, so gorgeous...so dark, so evil...she stretches out a hand, beseeching, begging, pleading…only to drop it as she watches him vanish, her mind racing in turmoil, anguish…one word hits her mind…Home? where was that now? she had no place.. all that was left was the new quarters at the French HQ...so spartan, bare of life...not that it mattered now…wearied with defeat and pain she taps out the sequence, reappearing in her assigned quarters where she promptly collapses on the bed, drifting into a troubled sleep*