Welcome to Gaia! ::

Hvergelmir looked up at the sound of the door opening. Another visitor, come to twist her arm for information, perhaps? She instinctively started to hunch down in her chair, curling up slightly like she could protect herself this way. Her muscles tensed.

When she recognized the voice at the other end of the room, though, she wasn't sure what to make of it. Here was Persephone, a woman she'd met and had a positive enough interaction with -- but Hvergelmir knew better than to assume that would be much help to her in here. Zoji La -- Zircon, she wanted to be called -- had made it quite clear that Hvergelmir should not expect any friends in here.

"They're better company than some, at least. I've gotten used to them." Carefully -- trying to squint through the dark to read the expressions on the corrupted senshi's face -- Hvergelmir asked, "Do I know you?"

Zircon had pretended not to know her, had gotten angry when Hvergelmir had tried to force the issue. It was too dangerous to try again, to go begging for more help she wasn't sure of. And Persephone had been reluctant once before, when Hvergelmir had asked her even less. Do I know you, then, was are you here as a friend, or as my interrogator? How much help can I expect from you?

She didn't have many favors she was sure she could call in, if she had to. Titan, if he were here -- that one, at least, she felt sure of. And she'd spent her coin already with Astrophyllite, unasked but given all the same. Who was left that might be willing to raise a hand in her defense? Schreibersite, poor boy, if he was even here -- if she was willing to take advantage of his simplicity and trick him into hazarding himself. Who was left to try for mercy after that? Bischofite, who'd offered her none in the future -- if he even still lived, if they even let him through the front door? Was that the best she had left to work with?

Perhaps everything she'd been trying to do hadn't meant much at all.

It was eerie to see the mask, for a little while, and how easily Persephone seemed to slip it on. One moment, she looked quailed -- the next, she was staring down a junior officer like she was dark and sure of power, uncowed by her own stature or any sort of gentle nature.

Or maybe she slips the mask off. Maybe it's with me that she plays the sad ingenue, eager but uncertain to make friends. Am I that confident that she hasn't been playing me all along?

She was nervous. These games -- deadly games, horrible manipulations -- were making it hard to repress fear in favor of rational thought. Fear had always been powerful over her.

But, her rational mind argued, urging her to calm as Persephone shuffled the captain out of the room, she never came back. If this were all a ploy to trick me into trusting her, she'd have made some effort sooner. She'd never come back -- never tried to gain anything before now.

It still didn't help the way Hvergelmir instinctively tried to recoil in her chair at Persephone's seemingly innocent question about Sailor Cosmos. Could Schörl have -- but, she hadn't -- but the coincidence was too much to ignore --

Rational. Rational, Hvergelmir, be rational. This is Persephone. She doesn't want to hurt me. She's never wanted to hurt me before.

(They make her a Princess someday, the fear in her gut argued. What did she make her bones on, I wonder? Something like you, stupidly handing her Sailor Cosmos on a platter?)

She had to be safe. Knight messages, she was fairly certain, were already common knowledge in the Negaverse. "Any knight can contact Sailor Cosmos. We can send messages to anyone."

Let that be it. Let that be all she wants, and let her drop this subject. No more stars.

"Chaos takes more than it gives," she said with quiet sympathy. "And it gave you quite a lot." So now you see what it cost you in exchange, then. Now, at last, you can't turn away from it anymore. It was alright -- she didn't need a lecture from Hvergelmir about something she already knew. And Hvergelmir tried very hard not to lecture, anyway -- nobody liked someone who was too pushy or naggy.

But this was a hard time for Persephone, no doubt. So, even though she was the one in the chair and Persephone was the one walking free, because Hvergelmir knew how far from freedom Persephone was, she gave her a sad look and said, "A message like yours -- most knights would carry it for you gladly. Please don't be afraid." She summoned up a shadow of a smile. "There is a kindness you can do for me, though. I want you to carry a message to Kairatos of Mars -- I understand he's here."

She smiled -- tired, but there was fondness in it. "Tell him I'm fine. Tell him I said to stay the course. Will you do that?"

"Thank you."

Hvergelmir sighed, relieved. At least Kairatos would know he was in her thoughts, at least when the end came, she'd have gotten to say goodbye to someone. She was grateful.

"I'll try it," she said of the offered pomegranate flower. Relief would be nice, however long it lasted. The farther-off consequences might not be pleasant, but they were just that: farther off. She wasn't mentally prepared to think of them just yet.

"And a bathroom break sometime later, if you can manage it?" she asked, making an attempt at a goofy smile. It was an awkward request, but -- well, it was going to be even more awkward, to say the least, if she didn't at least try.

"That's okay," Hvergelmir said, inhaling the softly scented fog. It was . . . nice. "I feel a little better already."

She sank back in her chair -- her arms were still chained in their positions, but the ache of it was already fading.

"Persephone -- remember me fondly, okay?"