-Occurs evening of July 27 following this RP-

Steel toed boots thumbed against the wood floor of the Mason’s porch. Dressed in black with bruises beginning to show and blood drying down her arm, the Negaverus agent looked as if she had gone into war on her own.

Instead it had been the her very own assigned captain that did this to her.

Finally, as her hand reached for the doorknob, Stibnite allowed her identity to shift. Imara Mason stood in place for a moment and then dropped to the ground.

“s**t…” She managed to hiss out as her legs continued to shake. Imara knew well that she had made it home because she had remained in her nega form. She did not realize until that moment just how badly she was going to feel this in the morning. “s**t. Come on Imara. Don’t let them find you like…”

A long whistling noise came from behind her followed quickly by rushed foot steps and a shadow falling over her form. “Hey Sis, what the hell happened? Get in a fight with a four year old again?” Taylor’s matching red eyes scanned his sister’s form and stopped in shock at her shoulder. His entire expression changed from amusement to worry. “Imara, what the hell…”

“Shut up Taylor and either help me up or get out of my way.” The woman groaned, hand shooting up to try and reach for the door handle. She needed it to brace herself. Taylor quickly moved in to help from the other side. However, he hit her bruised rib drawing a long hiss from his sister. Jerking free of his hold, Imara shoved the door open and stumbled inside. She could feel his presence as she started towards the stairs.

One quick glance over her good shoulder stopped him cold.

By the time Imara finally collapsed on the bathroom floor, she was pretty sure Taylor had found his room. Tonight he would leave the door open in case she needed anything. It was moments like that when the siblings did not try to kill each other that made them remember blood ran deeper than water.

But hot water was all Imara wanted as she yanked the faust head of the bathtub all the way to the H. Grabbing a rag, she shed as much of her clothes as she could. The pants would be fine but the blood around the bite had bleed through her normal tank when she powered down. That was trash now.

Shoving the rag under the hot water and quickly throwing it over the wound, Imara let that steam clean and open around it as she dug for the first aid kit. Throwing it on the counter, she slipped back towards the bath and under the hot water.

It burned.

It burned to her very core as she closed her eyes and dropped her head. Silence passed for far too long before the side of her fist found the cold tile wall in front of her. “Damnit…” She called out low at first. Each hit increased in speed and strength as each word got louder before she screamed out in frustration and dropped to her knees in the tub.

Hot tears were running down her eyes as she curled over her knees. “How dare he.” Her voice trembled with the tears and emotions. “How dare he think I’m beneath him.” Anger pulled the pain as her fist once more slammed above her head into the tile. “I will make you pay Lecuite….Mathias” She hissed. “I will make you regret the day you ever considered me yours to do with as you pleased.”

Yanking the water off without rising, the wet form of Imara remained there, gazing at the drain as blood mixed with water disappeared into the darkness. He had wanted her. Wanted her as a weapon. Wanted her for sex. Wanted her to train.

And now she was certain all that was just a front to establish himself over her.

Pushing off the bottom of the tub, Imara rose slowly to her feet and turned to look at her form in the bathroom mirror.

She looked horrible.

But behind those eyes she could see herself. Her anger. Her frustration. Her body slowly began to straighten. The form of the strong woman she was coming back into place. Slowly, a smile inched over her face and became dark and twisted.

Mathias wanted her to know her place. Fine. She would play that game for now. She would be the weapon needed. Learn what she could. Practice what she could. Earn his trust and respect. But should he falter...

“May God save your soul should you slip up...Captain.” She hissed, throwing the bar of soap at her reflection in the mirror.