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Castor couldn't help it. It was all very cosmically ironic. Death or submission -but he was not a fool. Death would not be sweet nor kind. It would be his starseed, ripped from his body and held as a trophy. Not consumed for a flash of power was a waste. No, his soul would be kept trapped for eternity. A constant reminder of the power of chaos. A warning for those who would refuse.Trapping his soul would mean he'd never be reborn. He'd never be anything more than a trophy for that which he'd fought so hard against.

His laughter was horse and jagged. Knives that dug into his neck and sent drops of deep crimson to the crystal floor under him.
Irony that he would be told to submit or die. Both which would end in the same manner. His soul, bound to that which he had denied.

"You think that's a choice?" He rolled his head back, looking up at the same sky Alkaid did.
"Ida, what do you think? Black my color?" He made jest of it, his broken laugh ripping through his body.

"Hm, maybe." Survive to see the end, change could always happen.
A soul could always be saved, it was just a matter of how.

Ida was near death and it didn't take a rocket scientist to know that if Alkaid kept up the abuse and energy draining Ida would deteriorate further. His life might be of value, but her was no less important.
"Freedom won't tame a woman like her." Blue were still fixated on the sky.
"You're better off giving her what she wants though. Freedom will leash her." Gambles and gambits, he was doubtful that either Alkaid or her mistress would find his reasoning sound.

"Free-Back to earth where behind every corner chaos hides. Back home, where her enemies hide behind masks of friendship and normalcy. Free to know that if she makes one little mistake this is where she'll be again. This will be her fate. Trapped and used like cattle." Cold eyes finally drifted back to Ida, measuring her. She was going to die here if she failed to be useful. She was someone who had nothing to offer anymore. Not to him, or to Metallia. He was Castor, the hated and the merciless.
Still.

"Submitting doesn't always mean to be corrupted Ida." He could only hope she might understand.
"Be a good little doll for them, be their puppet. No matter our choice the end result is the same. It's just better to take a less painful route."
He felt himself sinking, his own energy less than it had been.

"Question though Alkaid, does this mean I must call you mistress? If so, I don't entirely object."

Alkaid considered them both as they spoke in turn, though she thought, perhaps that Castor was showing his true colors. Release Ida? He knew better. He knew her master better than some of her own comrades. So why did he truly think Alkaid would do such a thing, and why did he want her to?

"I'm afraid I already have one puppet that lives on the end of my leash. He is enough." She shook her head slowly to show her interest in having yet another defiant, unpredictable burden to carry. There was simply no time to spend stalking another broken soul across Destiny City, Kam's life was difficult enough to keep pressed beneath her thumb. "Ida's presence here is a testament to all that fear can accomplish - I have played that game of cat and mouse already. I do not need another study."

The ascendant straightened her spine and leaned into the throne's tall, rigid back like it had been made for her. It was clear that she was thinking, as her expression had changed to one that looked nearly serene - if it hadn't been so blank and lifeless. Could Castor be hoping that she overburdened herself with distractions? Was that the angle of his encouragement? A part of her really wondered if he was truly a selfless, caring Prince bargaining for the life of a comrade - but then that part of her remembered the look of silent, unrestrained hatred on his face as he stood before the remnants of a blood bath. Castor wanted to be anywhere but at risk of falling victim to Metallia's control, anywhere but in the hands of his sworn enemy.

He was afraid. That thought stuck in her mind and echoed in a repetition, as if every ounce of chaos in her being was crying out with its own hungry voice. She shut her eyes as if it would drown out the sound and reigned her thoughts back to silence. Despite the very near slip into hysteria, a pleased smile lingered on her face. When she opened her eyes again, they were settled directly on his.

"You can call me whatever you want for now, Castor. The screams eventually all sound the same." The delivery was almost humorous, almost human, but the sharp narrowing of her amber eyes on the ocean that stared back at her said it was no joke. Both of her hands raised to the arms of her throne and she pushed herself up to stand on both feet, a single graceful sweep that left her cloak trailing in a lazy arc behind.

"I'm afraid the Prince and I have some matters to discuss. Since you're so energetic today, perhaps you'd like to find your way back to your room?" Her eyes settled pointedly on Ida as she spoke, but the tone made it clear that it wasn't a question at all. She turned toward Castor and took a few steps, only pausing to throw a last glance at the defeated eternal. "Unless you'd rather stay?" An offer that was clearly all threat.

Ida watched the pair of them with large, brown eyes, a note of sorrow and fear in them.

Alkaid held them both captive, their lives subject to her whim. Ida had always bowed to her, giving her what she wanted to avoid drawing her wrath and at the same time, keeping her own will intact. You couldn't break what wouldn't stand against you, could you? But Castor took a different route... not actively opposing, but not truly bending either. Provoking her in an obvious way... but there was a difference to his relationship with Alkaid than her own. Ida sincerely hoped it wouldn't bring worse down on him than he would get anyway. For all she had seen of Castor... she didn't want to see him hurt like this, not by this creature.

Castor dragged himself to sprawl next to Alkaid's throne and Ida swallowed thickly, shrinking back when he called her to join him. She shook her head emphatically as she turned away, struggling to push herself up. She made it to her feet for a breath of time, but the moment she hit the stairs, the true breadth of the task Alkaid had given her set in.

Castor would have to fend for himself now... there was nothing she could do for him, as much as it pained her. Swallowing her pride, Ida sank to her knees, already exhausted, and began to take them one by one, her injured wrist held to her chest. She promised herself she wouldn't look back... but she wasn't going to forget either.