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Normally, Kerberos would have avoided touching liquor before attempting anything even remotely close to what he was about to do. The plan with Titan was clear - wait until sundown, get to Hvergelmir and Kairatos, get them out. Hopefully it wouldn't be too difficult.

It was genuinely depressing for him to discover that he was a hundred percent more functional after drinking than he had been before, but the tremors in his hands had stopped and he was no longer seeing strange things at the edge of his vision and he had actually slept and he felt like he had the energy to teleport himself and another person a decent distance from the funhouse.

And he could feel Order signatures, coming closer, likely a rescue attempt by their side. That would, hopefully, make this significantly easier.

He wasn't far from Hver's cell, waiting for Titan, and pacing, antsily. He hoped that the approaching attack would be enough to cover for that.

It seemed their time in this little fun house of horrors was at an end. Distantly, Cinnabar could hear the sounds of battle and somewhere in her chest area, a crystal voice was issuing orders.

Take, kill, or make useful... None of these options sat well with the half-youma. They tugged at bits of memories of another time and place, of a situation like this. Of a man in a room, bruised and bloody, that she had sworn to herself to keep safe...

Pushing away from the wall with a deceptively lazy motion, the captain ignored the sounds of running feet and shouting voices as she slipped into the room of mirrors to give the guard there a side-long look. She didn't outrank him, sadly, but that had never stopped her before.

"You heard the orders. I'll take care of this one. Go join the battle and I'll come once he's... disposed of." She tossed over her shoulder, the line of her body and her purposeful strides saying clearly that she wouldn't take no for an answer. The guard protested, but Cinnabar was fast to turn on him, her fangs and claws bared. The way his face paled told her his choice even before he mumbled a token excuse and scurried out, probably figuring senshi and knights would be easier to face than one of their own twisted kind. Her satisfaction left a bitter taste in the back of her throat, something she wondered if she'd ever be free of. There were some perks to being a monster, even if they were double edged.

Alone with Kairatos, the half youma felt her tension ease and she stalked over to the battered knight, sinking into a crouch beside him. He looked like s**t and it bothered her, which perversely made her angry with him. Idiot knight, letting himself get taken... you'd think he'd learn. This is what happens to your kind when mine gets our hands on you. Thick fingers reached to grip his chin and she lifted his face, her breath hissing between her fangs.

"Hey. Knight. Wake up." She said as she gave his head the barest of shakes, her body balanced perfectly on the balls of her feet as her tail snaked across the wooden floor. "Its your lucky day, sweet-cheeks. Looks like you've been pardoned."

Kairatos made a weary, unimpressed growl as Cinnabar attempted to rouse him, and blinked foggily before her words made sense.

"Define pardoned." There were voice in the hall, he hadn't even realized he'd passed out at somepoint after he'd heard the other voice being... broken... but it his fate was anything like that... he wasn't sure he wouldn't have preferred to go into it unconscious. It wasn't brave or noble but he was so ******** tired and in pain.

He wasn't even sure his armor quite fit right after this week. Everything felt a little looser than it had started, which was... not surprising really. It was just one more outward sign of how much they'd been through.



"Whatdyou want?"

Seeing no guard before reaching the Bull was enough to drop his stomach- were they already in there? Already corrupting him? Was he already taken somewhere else for worse? Titan shifted from brusque walk to jog the last patch, finding another captain hunkered over the Knight like a vampire.

A tail.
A youmafied agent. Normally he wouldn't complain about what was essentially a really lucky perspective of another agent with that sort of assets, but there was neither time nor energy for flippancy. There was only one of the captains with that figure, though he'd not seen the results of reports from her promotion before. " Stand down, Captain Cinnabar. He's been mine for months, and that hasn't changed. Kairatos is still of use."


Don't dare touch his starseed, whatever hungers are in you, beast. Can I kill her quickly? Do I go that far? Removing captives from unrightful treatment is one kind of treason. Fratricide is another completely. He tried to take in the rest of the damage only in a cursory way. There was too much red, even for a knight of Mars. Chains securing the man to the wall he knew how to deal with in a quick-fix way.

[[Content warning for mentions of blood, gore]]

"Kerberos?" she said in momentary disbelief, and felt a little twinge of guilt for not keeping the surprise out of her tone.

Persephone she hadn't really counted on for help of this magnitude. Oh, certainly, the eternal senshi had come to her cell, offered her some magical relief in the for of her flower, carried messages -- those things all helped -- but if Chaos was good at one thing with Persephone, it was talking her out of sticking her neck out too far from people. Convincing her she'd fail before she tried anything. At least, that was Hvergelmir's guess, based on their brief acquaintance.

All the same, for all that Persephone had been a dark horse in this nonexistent race, Kerberos hadn't even been in the running, as far as she was concerned. He'd been a wreck the previous times she'd seen him -- kind, remorseful, sincere -- but as terrified as he was drunk, and as drunk as he was self-loathing. He hadn't come to see her at all, hadn't tried. Hvergelmir had looked for no help from that quarter.

But here he was, all the same, dark and trailing hair like a heartbroken angel among the sea of half-finished puppets, moving by the glow of a single touch-light. Apparently her savior.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," she said, and meant it.

How he planned to get her out of here, she didn't know. Her feet were -- she didn't want to think about them -- and her wrists and ankles remained bound to her chair by a coil of chain wrapped round and round and clasped shut with a padlock.

She could help him with about half of it, the half she'd had hours to think about in idle frustration; but for the other half, he'd have to have what he needed. Or -- or get what he needed. That was an option too.

"There's a bracelet on the table," Hvergelmir pointed loosely with a tilt of her chin, "with triangle cutouts. You could -- try and use it like, uh, the back part of a hammer, the nail lifty claw part. If that doesn't work, I-- I don't know." She didn't want to think about the other option, if the nails wouldn't come out of the floor. It wouldn't be pleasant.

She gave her wrists a light shake. "I couldn't get a good look, but I think the, uh, the lock mechanism on my chains is shaped for a starseed. If -- if you don't have one handy, just -- uh -- " Her voice cracked a little, betraying weeks of brittle and broken nerves. "Be careful with mine, okay?"

It was difficult to fight the expression of relief when he saw Titan in the doorway, but by the same token, he didn't want to get him in trouble... assuming he hadn't changed his mind since they'd last spoken.

He glanced between the two of them uncertainly, tentatively shaking the arm she'd freed.

"...As flattering as this is, how about someone undo the other chain and then maybe i'll play referee."

He thought about joking that he could find his own way to the door... but honestly... not so much.

He wanted to hold onto the idea that Cinnabar might be saveable, but Titan he trusted. And he needed to know where Hvergelmer was.

[[Content warning for mentions of blood, gore]]

"It's okay," Hvergelmir said, though her face was pale and discomfited by lamplight. There was no option of leaving her feet nailed to the floor, not if she planned on living -- and no one was going to show up with a sedative. The nails were going to have to come out. "I wouldn't have wanted to keep looking at that stupid hammer anyway."

She bit her lip, trying to brace herself as he negotiated the triangle edge of the bracelet under the head of the nail, depressing her skin slightly with a queasy throb. "Go ahead and do it," she whispered tremulously.

Hvergelmir did her best to distract herself, to think her way through the pain of what he was about to do. She thought about his comment that he could use his own starseed, the ever-gaping hole in his chest. They were both punctured in ways that wouldn't have necessarily wanted -- but at least she didn't have a permanent hole to her starseed. It was a disturbing thought.

There was no distracting herself, though, not once the nail started coming out. The nerves were already raw and angry, the flesh burning. The new slide and yank of the nail back up through her skin, pushing inner nerves that weren't designed for direct impact, tearing back open a puncture wound that had just started to scab, was incredible agony. Despite herself, she gritted her teeth and couldn't manage to fully stifle an ear-splitting scream.

When it was out, she stayed hunched over in her chair, hair hanging in her face, breathing loudly and frantically through both nose and mouth to try and remaster the intense pain.

Her every instinct said to tell Kerberos not to do the second one. Just to leave it there, that she could spend the rest of her life pinned to this floor instead, anything to not make the same amount of pain happen a second time. But, since that would be insane from a rational point of view, she choked back the impulse with a hard sob.

She tried to tell the corrupted senshi that he could continue -- that he could do the second one, she was ready -- to do it quickly and get it overwith before she changed her mind -- but all that came out was hysterical weeping and shallow, shuddery breath.

[[Content warning for mentions of blood, gore]]

The second scream was louder, and trailed down into a pathetic, miserable croaking sound.

Hvergelmir wanted to reassure Kerberos -- to tell he'd done a good job, she'd be alright, at least to say thank you -- but it was several long moments and teeth-gritted, groaning effort not to throw up or pass out before she was anywhere close to being able to form words or complete trains of thought.

The faint smell of clove cigarette smoke still hung around her, saturating her hair where it stuck to her face. Tell me about the Moon, Sarcite's clipped tones echoed in her ears. It was hard to get her breathing under control.

"Thanks," she finally rasped out in a very raw, sandpapered voice. "My -- my friend was here. Kairatos. Mars. Do you know . . . if . . . ?"

She didn't want to say it.

The worst of the pain was over, she told herself. Just the chains, now, and they could go, and her other injuries were a little better off, at least. The burn on her knee was ugly, but someone had come in and cleaned her hand and her lower back where Schörl had carved the Cosmos stars, carefully applied fresh bandages and medical tape to them, so they wouldn't risk infection. They'd hold, at least, and weren't running blood like her feet were. He just had to get the chains. Just the chains and this nightmare could somehow, somehow be over.