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As though a cloud had been lifted, Andeon laughed. It was more a change in the air, a noticeable difference in the way he carried himself, and his body shook with the soundless expression. Oh, but it was so rich! The excuses. The lies. The way she pretended that they hadn't wormed their way into her heart and latched on tightly. Her insults were as meaningless to him as his were to her. They were, in far too many ways, insufferably equal.

Spare me, he said, even as she walked away. He would not go after her. No, Riley knew all too well how to play people, and perhaps she had become accustomed to being around those who were susceptible to her particular charms. Andeon, for as much as he had once respected her, was far from a pawn to be played in her little game.

I have a plan, he said mockingly, I am using them. I am bending them to my will. It is all a part of my carefully constructed blah, blah, blah. You're a singularity of stupidity if you expect I'm going to be so easily convinced. You forget the difference between me and them. Between me and your father. Between me and the council.

Andeon's eyes narrowed, and Riley would be able to feel the heat of that stare even with her back turned to him. Oh, how a part of him wanted to bury his claws in the soft space between her ribs and squeeze until they snapped like dried twigs.

I know you, Aen'ryliis, and whatever you're hiding? Whatever it is that you've got locked up in that head of yours? It's only a matter of time before I find it.

Andeon leaned casually back against the tree, arms folded over his chest, Even if it means tearing your china shop apart, piece by piece.

Andeon's tentacles seemed to be quietly braiding themselves as he listened, one brow arched as Riley jammed a finger into his collarbone.

What's the fun in just telling you? What's a diabolical scheme if I just tell you the ending? Then it's just a diabolical and short-lived conversation. No, no.

There was, as always, the lingering desire to reach out and snap off the offending digit, but Andeon resisted. A good percentage of their training was not only manipulation and political maneuvering, but to overcome the urge to simply kill and feed on anything worthwhile.

You're the best at what you do, Andeon conceded. In manipulation, Riley had always outshone him. Where he had combat skill in abundance, Riley had always possessed the uncanny ability to twist people around her finger with ease. They were in many ways still drow in their social habits, having retained particular skills unique to those who had been implanted in the bodies of the Underdark's most infamous residents.

Andeon leaned in, the backs of his fingertips gently gracing that soft purple cheek. It was almost gentle, but they both knew better. It was an act, as was everything either of them ever did. They lived on lies and betrayal. Backstabbing was their native language, and deceit ran thick in their blood. Any tenderness displayed was simply to prove a point; he was gentle by choice.

And I'm the best at what I do, my lovely Aen'ryliss. And we both know, he paused, and one sharp claw traced a light arc alongside her face from temple to chin. There was a boldness in his action that was born of their familiarity. Their trial had gone on for days, and in the end they both carried scars of a different nature. Andeon's just happened to be more visible. What it is that I do best, don't we?

Whatever it is you have to hide, I'll find it eventually. What you do between now and then? Well, I suppose that will determine how much I tell the council. Suffice to say, keep your pets on their leash, and I won't leave their bodies in pieces in your bed.

Andeon's amusement was palpable as he looked down at her hand, but did not extend his own. With the council breathing down her neck and another illithid assigned to her turf, Riley was in no position to be bargaining. That she was threatening him was nothing new, and so the words slid easily off of his ego.

If you were capable of having my head on a plate, precious, you'd have done it by now.

There it was. Those old tones of false affection, the leaning in to rest is forehead gently against hers. It was a strange and complicated dance that the two of them had been participants in for nearly their entire lives.

Ilsensine itself won't be able to save you if you cross me, my flower. I'd hate to cut up such a pretty face, so don't go giving me a good reason. You can have your little playground and all of the children in it, all I want...?

Well, that was the question of the day, and Andeon did not seem inclined to give the answer.

All I want is to go try and fill that hunchback with goodies and hang him in the cafeteria. Do you think it'll take long before the others start beating him with sticks?

Riley was never really good at lying to Jericho. Though he didn't quite believe her, he only slowly nodded before looking towards Christof. The guy looked horrible. With a grimace, he glanced back to where the mindflayers had gone off, hoping his friend would be alright. But.. surely Andeon wouldn't try to pull something right on campus right now.

He hoped at least.

That fear... he didn't think Riley was capable of it. Between the memory of what he had seen and that emotion alone, he knew the male illithid was one to be reckoned with, one way or another.

Crouching down by the Igor, the dragon extended a hand to see if he could help him up.

"Are you alright?" he asked with a frown before looking towards the direction the others had gone again, "That b*****d.."

Jericho grimaced at the sight of Christof's face falling apart like that. When the patchwork began to scribble on the chalkboard, he stared hard. It was hard to reach his handwriting at the moment due to how badly shaken he was right now.

The dragon took in a deep breath, trying to think where to start.

"That was Andeon... someone from Riley's home," he said, "I don't know the full history between those two, but lets just say those scars on his face were caused by her. He is not a friend in the slightest."

A little nervously, he looked back towards where the two had disappeared off to. What was happening now he had to wonder?

"I.. don't really know what else. But I guess he wanted to make it clear to Riley that he is here."

Seeing Christof's shaking quell some, Jericho wondered what was going on in his head. When he finished writing, the dragon peered to read what he had to say. It was easier to make out, though he had no idea what lăudăros was supposed to mean. Most likely it was some sort of insult, he supposed.

It was good to see him so confident in Riley, but there were some slight reservations he had personally. That fear...

Even so, Jericho saw no reason to fill Christof in on these reservations or his reasoning for it.

"She is and she will," he agreed, "But I don't think Andeon is one we should underestimate."

When silence fell again, Jericho watched the Igor carefully since it seemed like he was in some pretty deep thought or something along those lines. Maybe he was trying to think of some way to off Andeon? This turned out to not be the case and in fact, he was rather surprised with what was written instead.

Blinking at the slate for a moment or so, the dragon soon grinned a bit at Christof before carefully patting him on the shoulder.

"It's.. alright. And uh.. sorry for punching your nose off.. and stuff," he apologized in turn.

The walk back from the field took about two minutes. In the time she'd taken, her confident and casual demeanor started to fade. It had been a ruse, of course, and by the time she had made it back to the Fitness Booth she was practically shaking.

But that didn't keep her from snapping into action.

Christof. She bent down, and put her hand on the skin that kept falling, holding it in place. Do you have a needle and thread? We need to fix this, at least keep it on until we find Malodore. Even as she spoke the word, she had flipped out her phone. Her fingers flew on the tiny keyboard, sending out a text message without even needing to look at the screen itself. She was surveying the damage, her brow lined deeply as she checked the broken stitchings.

Her hand remained on the unattached face, holding it in place as she looked up at Jericho. Okay. Ground rules. Number one. You are never to speak to Andeon on purpose. Ignore any and every attempt he makes to rile you up or anger you. And most importantly, never find yourself alone with him.

That being said, she pursed her lips, and sighed.

And if ever asked, you will not mention my relationship with Malodore. Are we clear?