Welcome to Gaia! ::

SInclaire was quiet, and the frown had returned as she listened to it's words and more importantly, observed the emotional state of this visitor. She turned to glance at the subject, Riley, and the frown deepened. Behind Malodore, Prinny and Vek sniggered and tried to look innocent.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to keep her voice even and calm, "She is fragile. Everything about her if weak, moreso than a newborn FEARling. Not just physically, but mentally, and emotionally as well. If anything causes her to dissipate right now, I likely won't be bringing her back again." She gave the student a level look, "You being here is a risk, but if you two are close, your leaving now could possibly be worse."

The succubus opened the door wider, and took a step back to allow the plague doctor in.

The last thing she - Riley, she supposed she should force herself to keep thinking the name - wanted, was for this plague doctor to enter her cell. They would lock her - him? - up with her, and they would both be killed. Or, more likely, when she tried to make her escape she would become a liability. A burden. Something that attempted to hold her back.

But in she came, and she sat beside Riley, despite the warning looks the mindflayer was trying to give her. It was too late.

And as the plague doctor spoke, spoke of missing her, she found she was indulgently content that it hadn't heeded her silent warning. And irrationally sad that she had to tell the poor thing that she did not feel the same way. She was not this.. mia cara. Whoever this plague doctor loved, was no longer here.

She reached out, and placed one hand against the claws, patting it gently. They were cold against her skin. I am fine. Physically. She was responding to the plague doctor's questions, instead of what she thought she was about to do. Wasn't she just telling herself to explain..? Every part of me hurts, but I will get better. It is why I have survived this ordeal, I suppose. So.. She hesitated, trying to convince herself to explain to this ghoul in front of her that she had no idea who she was. Rip it off fast, like a band-aid, A- .. Riley.

But she didn't.

Are you.. how are you?

Awkward.

Malodore's heart ached. With every word, it was more and more clear that while this was Riley, the mindflayer was not remotely the same as she had been. Fragile. Damaged. Two words so unsuited to Riley as she had been. So easy to disbelieve, and yet her every movement indicated their truth.

The Armida I had loved died that day... I still miss her as she was, and her presence as she is now does not fully blunt that loss. Celeste's words, given soft and bitter in the heat of the swamp, washed over it. It closed its eyes briefly before turning to nod at the succubus as she stated the limits of its visit. "Thank you," it said quietly, then returned its focus to Riley. It would make the most of what it had been given.

"I am... very happy to see you alive," the plague doctor replied, choosing its words with a painful care; it walked on the edge of a knife, with someone from whom there should have been no need for such things every again. "I was certain you were dead... but I heard you crying out." Its claws twitched under her fingers, but they slackened and fell back into place, not attempting to entwine with hers. "Everyone missed you so much... Jericho, Shehk, Junko, Amrita, Christof..."

As it spoke, it searched her face, hoping for some reaction to a name, anything indicating a sense of recognition. "I can... I can tell you anything you want to know, if... if you'd like. I do not wish to overwhelm you, I-" Jack, it wanted to lift its hand and run one claw down the line of her cheek! But they remained still and limp, unmoving other than a small tremble.

Malodore's hand trembled as she folded her fingers and drew it closer, just a little closer - but her reaction, or rather lack of one, to the names it had listed was more telling than the mindflayer realized. That prior hesitancy was gone now, as quickly as it had appeared, but what had replaced it was... cold. The small signs of the deep familiarity they had shared were gone. It loved her, yes, but no mention of her own love. It recognized this, even as she spoke into its mind, and yet...

... she had spoken truly: it loved her, regardless. Its claws curled hesitantly around her fingers. Si, ti amo, mia cara, it echoed back to her, mind-to-mind. But these creatures have great power. After... after you were... turned to stone, and the memory flickered to the surface, her tentacles and arms wrapped around it, protecting it, only for the Bogeymen to coldly slice Malodore's head off as the exhausted plague doctor attempted to plead for her sake. I alone cannot save you, and that hurt to say. Cold and uncaring though these beings may be, they... they saved your life. They brought you back. They would not hesitate to kill us both if we ran now - I know you, Aen'ryllis. It could not help but infuse her true name with its longing. You would have tried to fight the moment you were capable. Didn't you?

It wanted so much to take her away, to spread its wings and rain blades upon them before fleeing with her in its arms. To nurse her back to full health, until she was as she had once been - but it dared not lose her again. This, too, would be apparent to the mindflayer, the conflict and emotion warring within its mind.

It never had been any good at keeping her out. It had never wanted to, and though part of it felt, distantly, that perhaps it should now, just to protect her... no, it couldn't. Not before. Not now. Her touch was just too familiar, too deeply and desperately longed for. The answer to her question surfaced in a thousand memories, not directed by Malodore's conscious mind in the least - it was its own mind's pure recollection, the summation of its self-

"Why can't we watch more? I want to see!" Loreto protested again, folding its arms over its chest and pouting.

Loreto thought for a moment. "I want to... be a doctor? But not just any doctor! I want to learn all kinds of things! Everything there is to know!"

"I don't have anything that's mine," Loreto mumbled, burying its beak against its knees.

Loreto spent long hours in its tower, sometimes with Ettore, sometimes alone. It practiced, it tested, it experimented; it worked its way through Zia Agostino's lessons, then went back to its tower and modified the technique, testing and trying, succeeding and failing. Learning.

The choices were clear, sharply defined. It could go back to its tower, see if it was still standing and if the laboratory was still there. It could resume its work in secret. Or it could go back to its room, back to its elder-approved life, and be happy with leechcraft, and never have to face the void again.

It could either be happy - however temporarily - or it could be trapped and crushed for the rest of its days... When it thought of it that way, the choice was really very simple.

Yet it was working, it was working; Loreto could feel the disease dying in front of it, pursued and run down and destroyed by its own ability. Its own experiment, its own power, its own victory- "What have you done?!" Salvio's scream was instant, echoing, furious. Two other plague doctors shoved past it, coming between it and Brynhild's bed, bending over her with anxious cries.

"A miracle," Loreto managed, and fainted.

Armida threw back her head and laughed, a real laugh, gurgling from beneath her mask; though the sound might technically have been unpleasant, it was one of the most genuine expressions of joy that Loreto had ever heard. "You are too wise already, my wicked, wicked Loreto-child - no, my Malodore-child."

"Ah, Parassiti, bella," it murmured, holding out one claw to the little rodent. Parassiti squeaked again and stepped onto Malodore's offered hand, wrapping her own digits around the plague doctor's for balance. "We will be happy here, won't we? Far better than at the Casa..."

"Pardon me, but which of you was responsible for that delightful bit of impromptu cranial surgery?" it said, its tone highly approving... "L.C. Malodore - please, call me Malodore. A pleasure, signorina."

Malodore stopped moving entirely as a sudden hail of... voices... cascaded through its mind. For an instant the plague doctor felt as if it were floating in a vast sea of knowledge, anything, anything it wanted to know right there-

"Is that, ah... a... an expression of affection? It was... ah... not... unpleasant... at all..."

"Perché ho trascurato di rendere perfettamente chiaro che la ragione ero così frustrato è perché ho cura di te, e voglio che tu abbia successo e non di sabotaggio te, e tu ancora voglia di andare al ballo con me?"

"And you need to hear to understand. You need to know what it is I am doing, what taboos I am breaking. It is not enough for you to tell me all is well simply because you care for me..."

It sighed and nuzzled its beak against the curve of her neck. "Strange. Just a few moments ago this enterprise felt worthless... and now, quite the opposite is true."

"Do you like it?" Malodore asked, not entirely sure whether to be excited or nervous at this point. "I had help, but... Tutto ciò che è stato fatto, è stato fatto per voi." It walked over to the table and picked up a single dead rose, holding it out to her shyly.

Be brave, mia cara, it thought at Riley, then lowered the ring into the wound.

"Riley, mia cara, sarebbe un onore e la gioia più vera che abbia mai conosciuto, se vuoi essere la mia sposa."

"Take me with you - don't leave me alone!! Please-"

For a moment it ached, wishing that it could take the grey into itself, just in case it could hear her voice.

-Intelligence, determination. Courage, defiance. A desire for exploration, to push limits simply because they were there; loyalty, love. Not all the memories that arose related to the mindflayer, of course, but given she was there, and had been sought so dearly and mourned so desperately, was it any surprise that many of them did? It was a testament to what had become a shared life.

All this surfaced in an instant, no more than the time it takes to parse a thought.

Ah, no... I am fairly sure you are, it replied, with a faint thread of genuine amusement. Just a little, as the plague doctor's misgivings and general emotional state was in too much turmoil for it to be really feeling any one thing - but, seeing her here, so close to it, flesh and bone instead of cold and unfeeling stone... yes, yes, it was she who was the miracle.

No matter what happened, she would always be that.

It cleared its throat, speaking aloud. "A miracle, indeed... from the cry I heard, it must have hurt you." Its claws automatically tightened their grip on her fingers, protective, possessive. "But every doctor knows that sometimes pain is required to effect a true cure..."

.... but, as it spoke aloud, it reached its mind out to hers as well. Do not be silent to them for too long. They have suspicious minds. It is likely too late; they will know from our prior silence that we have been speaking privately, but... It leaned forward just slightly and almost shyly bumped its forehead against hers, feeling a faint rush of giddiness overtake all other feeling for a moment.

I am a doctor, a scientist. I have been studying what happened to you since the moment we were separated. I have data, knowledge, that they may not. If I cannot free you now, perhaps I can become involved in their plans, to your benefit. "Given what happened, it is understandable, I suppose... but I wish it were not needed."

Do you know of my-

Really, it was just a drop in the emotional bucket, given everything else that had happened in such a short span of time, but Malodore's stomach found that it did, in fact, have the ability to twist up just a little bit more. "I... he was assisting at Amityville, yes. He left a while ago, I believe... we have never met."

Another memory bobbed unbidden to the surface. "What have you done to me, mia cara?" Its tone was teasing... and just a little bit awed....

Her eyes lifted up to Malodore, before collecting it back into her arms. Okay. I will be brief. Someone from my hive has transferred into this school recently. I'm not sure if I have to tell you just how dangerous that is. For both of us. She lifted it's claw in her hand, and brought it to her face, where her lips would be. She brushed the metallic appendage against her skin. I love you, Malodore. No matter what I may say, or do, in the future, don't ever doubt my love for you.

She pulled the hand away, and straightened up. So. There is one thing we can do, in hopes it will be enough for now. You need to work on your shielding, mm? If you're ever face to face with Andeon, I'd be rather amused to see him fail to get through to you as well as he might think he could.


... There were, apparently, reasons why they had never met. The name brought only fear, not of the mindflayer in question, but of the faceless hive, which Riley herself had told it was such a threat to their happiness.

Its beak opened. "Would it... help you, to have him near?"

The words were like pulling bones out of flesh - but all that mattered was her happiness.

Malodore relaxed, just a tiny bit, soothed both by her soft chuckle and by that gentle, familiar gathering of its hands into hers. "I do not hate him, mia cara," it said, slowly. "Being wary of someone, aware of their potential to do you harm, is not the same thing..."

I do not want them to hurt you again either, it thought at the same time, fiercely. And yet without that pain, you might not be here right now - it is often true that one must suffer a while in the process of healing, as having an infection excised or a badly healed bone rebroken. But I will not tolerate suffering without cause, pain that does not lead to a whole and healed end- Frustration rose to the fore; why was it so powerless here, so impotent? I will do whatever I can for you. I... if I see Andeon, I will tell him.

Its mind was racing. Would it be possible to offer the Bogeymen researchers anything to secure future visits? It had its own research, but would that be enough? It did not want to endanger Cricket, or Jericho for that matter.