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From the quiet, confident way Schörl spoke of what he would do and what would happen if he would not, Aegir had no doubts but that whatever she had planned, he wanted none of it. The thought of having his communicator in his hands, available - with the panic button - but being unable to use it and survive in one piece was rough. It chafed, like rope to bare skin. Even so, that would have been better than the feel of the General's Youma holding him down as it was.

"Yes." Aegir breathed a sigh of relief when her hand released his starseed, but that didn't last long as she took his hand tightly. His bones ground together in an unpleasant manner that had him gritting his teeth, but he still didn't argue with what Schörl said. If she wanted to force him to contact Castor, he'd do it - there was no doubt in his mind that the woman would get her way. She was a General, horrifying and creepy like Obsidian had been, but so much worse because the madness in Obsidian hadn't ever touched him. Schörl had him pinned down, leashed tightly like a prized pet.

Strangely cadenced words, silk over blade, came from the General. She apparently had more to say, more 'wisdom to impart to the curly haired captive before he'd be tasked with performing her request. Aegir shifted a bit within Barbary's grasp and her's. He was being pliant and obedient for the moment, to preserve his life, but even with fear sending his adrenaline sky high the green-eyed senshi continued to wait for a chance to make an escape. He also kept his damned mouth shut, knowing she wouldn't appreciate his input. What is she even talking about? Castor's a prince on his own planet, we offer royalty from other countries the same address. Lord, Prince....Queen. Why is this blasphemy? The Negaverse is full of crazy people... He would keep his tongue? Christ on a cracker, what the hell did she have planned for him? Why was the youma shifting like that?

Questions answered shortly, though he might have wished to never know. The first bite of claw in flesh made him gasp and grit his teeth, jerking the whole of his upper body away from the pain. "********--" It hurt. His world was suddenly pain. The wounds caused by Barbary's claws burned like fire and the blond's fingers twitched and tried curling in to protect his palm to no avail. Schörl had him, secure as a sacrifice offered up for some pagan festival. Tears sprung unbidden, sliding down already streaked cheeks as he choked on the burning, raw pain in his hand; harsh, short sounds and hissing swears spaced between jagged breaths.

As endorphins kicked in, the senshi of silence stopped struggling but left his head bowed, trying to push past the haze of pain towards clarity of thought. One thing resounded in his head, thrumming along with the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears. She was dead. Someday, somehow...Aegir would get her. He hung onto his anger, fanning it. You might win today, but I will get you. I won't forget this. The scar he'd probably get from whatever damage had been done would see to that.

Though the immediate bite of pain from that hellspawn flat!lion had started to fade with the rush of endorphins, Schörl’s smiling removal of the cut-out flesh set it all back to burning anew and drew a hissing whine out of Aegir. He shuddered and tried curling over automatically but between Barbary and the hold the General had on him, it was impossible to do more than twitch uselessly. When released, he did precisely what he’d reflexively wanted to do before, he curled as much of himself around his injured hand as possible, expression tight-lipped and white with pain.

Despite the lips against his ear, it took a few moments and Schörl’s hand resettled at his back for the meaning to sink in. Now. Now he was supposed to contact Castor. To pass along the General’s message. Shuddering a bit, he summoned his phone into his free hand, the weight causing fresh pain as the device settled into the welling blood and raw flesh.

Hard as it was, especially with only the one hand, Aegir did as he’d been told. Castor would be getting a text, ’inviting’ him to meet with Schörl, one she would have chance to view before it was sent. To what end, Aegir could only swallow bile and pain down and pretend he didn’t know. The carved glyph in his palm might have stood for blasphemer in the wicked General’s eyes, but for Aegir it was nothing so much as mark of his Betrayal. Each pull of flesh sent pain fresh and bright coursing through him, counterpoint to the misery of Aegir’s heart with every character entered. Castor trusted him, but the most the blond would been able to do was save his civilian side from exposure…and god only knew if that was possible. She already knew who he was powered, I only confirmed. And then gave her a means to contact. Though me. If she harms him, it’s on my head and no one else’s.

He had been weighed. Measured. Found lacking, as the line went. God help me. Castor, I’m so sorry…at the heart of it, I’m a coward who traded your safety for my own. Would there ever be a time when he could look Elzo in the eyes? Without feeling the pain of his betrayal? What of Marlo and Nadia? And himself? Would he be able to look his own reflection in the eye without feeling shame and disgust?

“You're a monster, you know. As much as this thing holding me. Maybe more.” Schörl had cowed him so easily; he’d been far too cocky and not nearly fast enough. Head hanging, Aegir closed his fist around the phone tightly, letting the hard plastic bite into his wound. It was a better pain, cleaner. He sent the phone back where it came from, staring down at his carved and bloody palm with brows drawn tight and angry and dark against the pallor of his skin.

Anger he could hold onto, direct, if given a chance. Could he destroy Barbary, a General's personal monster, with one hand? Wounded? No. And she seemed to get off on his struggle, the sadistic b***h.