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Daegonna could not sense magic, much less use it. Instinct told her they were sealed in. She glanced to the window and saw she was right. It prompted the handler to do the same. His little sound of fright made the Repairman look, as well.
Now everybody in the room knew they were trapped. The two men were still trying to sort it why.
The Repairman figured it out first. Realization dawned on his face. The words 'my vassal' had drive the point home. He didn't know what to say, or do. He turned his baleful stare on Sophie, promising untold of pain if they made it out alive.
Daegonna figured it out next, when all of her pain and emotional anguish drained away, and the chill of Ice's will pressed into her core. She gasped, and swayed slightly. She'd not realized how much pain she had borne from day to day. Suddenly being without steady ache or burn left her feeling like there was something missing. It wasn't that she craved the pain at all, but she had become so accustomed to it that she was no longer used to life without hurting. She stumbled forward, into Ice's arms. She clung to him, her face buried against his chest. He was cold. The cold touch of his body was a mercy after the sweaty heat of humanity's most perverse men.
Ice's question carried a demand with it. Daegonna told him everything. She whispered in a low voice, her lips brushing against his chest. There was nothing sexual about it.
"I went to stay with an old friend - Lastelle - She used me, betrayed me, and sold me to Montague. She's apparently the one who arranges meetings now. Montague changed me. Took my power. Used me."
Daegonna turned her face, staring first at the Repairman, then the handler.
"The Repairman fixes me when the johns or handlers break me. The handlers drug me. Heroin, ecstacy, and codeine. They take me to meet with the johns. They've all hurt me, used me, passed me around. Make them suffer, Ice. Do to them what they've done to me."
She couldn't have lied if she wanted to.
And she didn't want to.
Without her fear and shame and pain, the girl was left with something much darker and more malicious. Daegonna and Sophie had both been pushed aside, and something made of glittering black rage was coming out. Her darkness, her Daemon, the bit of her that had always been insane. Whatever it was it was angry.
The girl's blood sang with the heat of vengeance.
"Use them up, and throw them out." She whispered.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Daegonna was horrified at what she wanted Ice to inflict upon everyone who had hurt her. Sure, she had that tiny altruistic spark. Sure, there was a shred of her that wanted to free the other girls, but she couldn't pretend it was more than a shred. She wanted retribution in the worst way. She was horrified at her own cruelty and hatred. The beast that had been coaxed out of her by her suffering and Ice's demand for the truth had no compassion, no mercy, and no conscience, and Ice had just asked what it wanted.

*As Daegonna spoke, Ice shifted slowly but surely back to his normal form. The men knew they were trapped now, time to let them see whom it was they were against.
One arm curled posessively around the base of Daegonna;s back, holding her aainst him but with no force. He merely cradled her there, with her hands on his chest, the link between them flaring and roiling as he fed on every single ounce of her pain, incresing his own awful power as he did so.
Baleful eyes watched the two men while Daegonna told her tale, hardening with every detail he dispproved of - which was all of them.*

Fixes you? Sweetheart, he's put a thin plaster coating on you. Any Fiend worth his salt could do a better job with his eyes closed.

*The words were snarled out as Ice glared down the Repairman. His second arm cradled across Daegonna's back, then his Viccisitude flared to life. The tattoos covering him glowed a faint blue around their edges as he kept his hands still on Daegonna, using the full bredth of his power to heal her, inside and out, back to what HE knew she looked like (horns and all) without having to move his hands. He truly was a scarily good fleshcrafter - a fact these two men would come to know intimately soon enough.*

Herion and Ecstacy... dont you know those things can kill?

*there was a manic edge to Ice's voice as he leered at the two men, rocking Dae gently against his chest, her head tucked into his shoulder so she wouldnt see the evil grin on his face.... but of course, she WANTED him to hurt them. To deny her the chance to watch... even he wouldnt do something like that.
Gently, he took her shoulders, towering over her at his seven foot height, and looked down to meet her gaze*

I will not do to them what was done to you... For one thing, Im much more inventive than the worst of their clients. I will do worse, Princess, just for you. NO ONE harms my vassal without my consent.
Sit on the bed. These two do not deserve even the semblance of intimacy. Id keep your feet up too - the floor is liable to get rather.... sticky.

*Ice turned his glare back on the two men then, striding forwards with that evil smirk on his face. He was feeling for the nature of the Repairman, wondering if he was a fleshcrafter or had another skill, but ultimately... ultimately, his mind was already at work devising an awful end for both these sadists, who would learn the TRUE meaning of pain at the end of his claws. His tail cracked the floor in anticipation as he pulled two needle like hairs from his head*

"Stall. Thats my plan. That human knows something that will mean the difference between victory and defeat. Besides... He's done his part."

Corbin would return the expression that mocked the seriousness of the situation so perfectly, garnishing with a wink for Seraphim as Abaddon's severed head would disperse as mist which weaved through the air to effortlessly reform at the break on his shoulders.

"You speak of the heart, brother?"

Abaddon's feet widened in stance, center of gravity lowering as he rolled his shoulders forward and exhailed oblivion. shoulders at full expanse and flex Abaddon cackled at the pair, ignoring the others.

"He knows I have removed it, but he will never find it, let alone before I have devoured the lot of you."

"Thats where you're wrong, Abaddon."

Corbin's eyes would turn from Seraphim slowly, a second pair of etheral eyes to match his already existing pair comeing to hover over his brow, as he stared Abaddon down with the utmost confidence, his right hand slithering to his chest, and the Sinjectors worn on his stripped down utility vest.

"He saw that you had no heart, and this, I saw, and I... Saw more."

Gradually, Abaddon's mirth would fade, replaced with malice as he stared into Corbin's four eyes. Corbin had used those eyes to read Fenrir and Abaddon's interactions and minds in the past through a mixture of disciplines and arts.

As Abaddon would snarl however, and the impulse to turn and chase Fenrir down rose up, Corbin's eyes snapped open as wide and a deep, rumbling bass richochetted off of every surface in the 'room' as a flare ignited like a reflection in Abaddon's eyes. Corbin used the Dark Omen curse and Chimerstrys sensory deprivation as a boost in a single assault.

All that was needed was the last moment of thei eye contact for the damage, miniscule as it was to be done and as Abaddon made his effort to turn, his senses all darkened for a moment and he felt the iron shutters slam down around his mind, but for only a second as he fell to a knee, back now turned on Corbin and Seraphim.

"PIN HIM DOWN!"

Corbin would cry out, knowing he couldn't hope to effect Abaddon for any more than a split second as his claws snatched shut around a sinjector and the contents of Temporis.

As Javos stumbled forward, and his phantasm was broken, Sieg's form relaxed. His grip on the skills of fortitude and protean eased, and slowly his bare feet padded across the broken ground to where the Cielican had fallen. He was met by the panther, whom he bowed his head, and slowly the Gangrel knelt.

Vergib mich, mein Freund. Ich soll nicht sich verlassen.

*The panther looked at Iden and almost raised his eyebrows, almost admonishin Seig for speaking in German, which the cat did not understand. When he spoke though, unlike before where Javos had talked to Seig through moving his mouth - though of course a feline jaw SHOULDNT have been able to talk - this time, he merely rumbled a loud purring kind of sound, the meaning put together inside Seig's head, rather than by his ears*

Es chicahuac acicamatl amehuantin... huehuetlahtolli es Inglés, pactia.

((THAT... does not even qualify as BAD Aztec xd Not even PIDGIN Aztec xd But its vaguely what he wanted to say))

Daegonna shivered at the freezing air that rolled off of Ice. She dragged a blanket over to her, and bundled up in it, purring contentedly.

The two men shivered and cringed and cowered, as expected. When Ice flung the needles at the handler, his aim was swift and true. The handler dropped, the Repairman scooting away from him. He was not so lucky as to have escaped Ice's attentions, however.
When Ice asked his name, the Repairman hesitated. Why did the fiend want to know?
"...Etienne." He answered at last.
Daegonna realized she didn't know his name. She'd only ever known him as 'the Repairman.' It seemed strange to her. She shrugged it off, and sat back to watch, still smirking in delight.
In the back of her mind, a tiny part of her was still sickened by all of this. It's protests were drowned out in the hum of sadistic and anticipatory satisfaction.

Etienne didn't stake a step back as Ice crept towards him, but he obviously wanted to.
When the tail darted forward, he obligingly stumbled back against the door. He was wide eyed with fright, and trembling. Etienne had not crossed paths with a fiend like Ice before, and was terrified. He had seen what Ice could do with his fleshcrafting, and he had seen the handler drop like a rock. His heart raced, and he was sweating profusely. He shot a pleading look at Daegonna. She knew Ice, Ice had come to rescue her, he hoped she might have a shred of pity for him.
He seemed to have forgotten that he'd been the one given the pleasure of showing each girl just what he would do if they tried to escape, and he'd been the one to fix Daegonna's wounds, in the loosest sense of the word. He'd taken liberties during his time with her, as well. Who was to stop him? If she told, she'd suffer. If she told, there was no guarantee Montague would care. Any damage the Repairman had done himself, he'd mended himself.
Daegonna flashed him a fanged grin.