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 Posted: Thu Nov 05, 2015 7:19 pm
Ashanite teleported back to the apartment, and as soon as he did, he powered down, and barely kept himself upright to walk into the . All the adrenaline had drained out of him, and the energy sphere's boost had been spent on teleporting himself and another person. His chest hurt, his breathing was shallow, and he was generally exhausted.
Someday, he was going to have less trouble than this teleporting, he was sure of it. But for now it was tiring, and doing two so close together was a terrible, terrible idea.
And he wasn't alone in the apartment.
"Porsha, isn't that a bit dramatic?" He said, which was deeply ironic coming from him.
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Posted: Thu Nov 05, 2015 8:13 pm
Porsha had been waiting--of course she had, a dark figure perched on one side of the couch, legs crossed one of the other, and an elbow resting on the arm rest, upturned hand cradling her cheek. A villainess lying in wait for the unwitting hero to stumble into her web. When he did, appearing in the living room and powering down, the girl merely stared up at him, expression very clearly unhappy. Expectant. She'd considered, over the last hour, contacting the other occupant of the apartment. Certainly Umber would have found the events of the evening very interesting, to say the least, but she knew the man, and she knew that telling him now would mean death for the captain, and She, at least, was willing to hear him out before she decided what to do with him. There was always the chance she found his reasoning unsatisfactory, then her delay in mentioning it to Umber would be moot regardless. Damien would be dead. It was that simple. "No more dramatic then that stunt you pulled in the park." Her tone was low, but no less angry for the time she'd had to wait for him.
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Posted: Thu Nov 05, 2015 8:21 pm
Damian exhaled frustratedly. She had obviously been waiting for him - but at least it so far appeared to be the two of them. If Shale knew what he had done, there would be no time for explanations. Carrying a Squire out of a train where there had been a pitched battle was one thing.
Scooping him out of Xenotime's grip in the park, complete with threatening a General? That was entirely another. Were she inclined to report him, Porsha could easily have him demoted, or executed, or some worse fate, for treason. Which meant he had to choose his words very carefully.
"But that's all it was. A stunt." He said. He was going to tread alarmingly close to admitting to his entire scheme, here. "If I'd intended to do you injury - you know me well enough to know that my aim is good enough for a toss over your shoulder to not be a miss." At least, he hoped she did.
"I'd like to see Mont Blonc corrupted," too honest, far too honest, "but not the way I was. It was traumatic, agonizing, I was angry - less so, now, but I would far rather see him come by his own choice. And if he does? There are others who will follow. Aegir, at least. Methone, perhaps. More."
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Posted: Fri Nov 06, 2015 6:50 am
She didn't move, only the subtle tick of her foot, up and down. A mark of agitation, barely contained behind that so calm exterior. She had dealt out punishment for crimes far less severe than this. That she hadn't simply snapped his neck upon arrival should speak volumes to how far her trust in him had grown during their training sessions. Trust that now rested very precariously on a thin ledge. One false word was enough to topple it over. "He would have been ours tonight, and he would have learned, as you had learned, acceptance and happiness in our midst. And then he could have assisted you in luring away the others. Or I could have taken them for you." As she'd been trying to do here. Anger leaked into her words, until the last was growled out between clenched teeth. Yet she still hadn't moved. Perhaps she didn't trust herself. "How do I trust you now, Damien? How do I trust your emotions and feelings for these former friends won't get in the way of our duty in the future?" Nails drummed against the top of her thigh. "If it comes down to life and deRh between an agent, my self perhaps, or one of these white moon soldiers you care so deeply about." Pale eyes narrowed. "Where will your loyalty lie?"
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Posted: Fri Nov 06, 2015 8:10 pm
Damian took a few steps closer, now that he trusted himself not to pass out somewhere between the doorway and her seat on the couch. He didn't quite make it all the way, but he did remain standing, which was a victory. He didn't even bother hiding that he was exhausted - she would see through him anyway, and the more openly vulnerable he was, the more likely she would believe him. Forgive him.
"I know that you would be as welcoming to him as you have been to me," he said. Flatter her, stroke her ego - if there was one time he couldn't let his exhaustion muddle his words, it was now. "I asked you to trust me, Porsha - because I know no one else would have. But if Mont Blonc stays Order, I can learn things from him. About the rest of the team, about other people he knows - he trusts me, and that is ultimately going to make him a useful resource, as long as that continues. What I did tonight sealed his trust in me. And it's because of you."
He walked the rest of the way over, sat down on the floor - at her feet, the supplication obvious. "But if I had to choose between him or you? I would choose you. With no hesitation. Every time."
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Posted: Fri Nov 06, 2015 8:58 pm
Now she moved. Just her head turning to face him full on as he walked cautiously closer, steps heavy with fatigue. Of course he was tired. Not only had be teleported multiple times in a short space of time, but he'd taken another body with him, whisking the squire away to safety. The very thought made her bristle, lips twitching in something close to contempt for the space of a heartbeat before the lines of her face smoothed into cold neutrality again. To her credit she did listen to him. Stoic and silent as he made his case, closed that lingering gap between them to kneel at her feet. Where he should be. Where he belonged. "And how likely is he to come over now?" After tonight, and that small taste of chaos she'd given him. "I was giving him to you," she purred darkly, lifting her foot to poke the tips of painted toes into his chest. He always did have a way with words. The girl shifted, hand lowering to rest on the arm rest as she brought her foot up beneath his chin, lifting his head. "I'm not sure how much I believe you, Damien." Show me. Make me believe it.
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Posted: Fri Nov 06, 2015 9:54 pm
Damian remained at her feet, eyes on her. He prayed that the gesture of submission was enough to convince her of his sincerity - and so far it seemed to be working at least a little bit, in the very least that he still wasn't dead, and she was still Porsha, not Xenotime.
"Let me worry about that," he said, tone as smooth as he could manage. "I'll talk him over, one way or another." And he would. Mont Blonc would be an officer, sooner rather than later, if he had his way. His eyes were averted away from hers, an additional submissive gesture.
He inhaled sharply, when her foot pressed to his chest. He wasn't sure if he was alarmed or pleased that she had intended Mont Blonc as some kind of gift for him. A little of both, perhaps.
When she tilted his head up, he met her eyes, his slightly wide. "How would you have me prove it?" He asked, and he hoped he didn't regret her answer.
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Posted: Fri Nov 06, 2015 11:19 pm
The captain had a silver tongue, there was no denying that, but she had her doubts that even he could shine a positive light on the events of the evening in a way that would convince the squire to join them. he should have let her finish. Should have let her corrupt him, then used that honey drenched tongue to smooth is all over. That had been the plan, in any case. For now, at least, she let that go. Focusing instead on Damien's loyalty. Not just to the Negaverse as a whole, but to her specifically. She'd taken him under her wing, trained him, brought him into her life. She'd given him a chance to prove himself, and given him a measure of trust. Trust that had been severely tested within the last hour. "I want starseeds," she answered simply, tipping his head back to an uncomfortable degree. "Not his, obviously, but ones ripped from the chests of those tainted by order." Her foot shifted, dropping away to rest back on the floor beside his knee, and she leaned forward finally, the tips of her fingers gliding beneath his chin, along the edge of his jaw.
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Posted: Sat Nov 07, 2015 12:15 am
It would be work, to bring Mont Blonc in after this - painful work to bring him in at all, after all he had seen Ashanite appear to go through. But if there wa some thing Damian was confident about, it was his capability to spin a story. He would bring Mont Blonc over, somehow.
He winced, slightly, when she tilted his head back - it was a strain on muscles that already ached with fatigue. But Porsha's request wasn't even that daunting. He had, perhaps irrationally, feared that she would ask for something more, but this - this was easy enough to fulfill.
"Do you intend to be with me when I collect them, or would you prefer I simply deliver them to you, General?" He asked. His eyes closed, briefly, when her fingertips first touched his face, but then the were on hers again, as attentive as he had been since returning to the apartment.
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Posted: Sat Nov 07, 2015 8:47 am
The bud of her thumb rolled across his cheek, under the corner of his eye as she slid her hand to cup the side of his face. All gentle, all of if as easily tender as it was a threat. It wouldn't have taken much to snap his neck. One false word, one hard twist. At least for now she had no intention of that, but there would be plenty of time to change her mind if he didn't prove himself convincing enough. Or she could tell Shale, let her officer derive some justified satisfaction in killing him. Porsha was not want for options, should things go poorly for the man at her feet. "Both. I will join you on your nightly runs until I am satisfied enough to leave you to your own devices, and you will continue to deliver starseeds to me until I tell you otherwise. Is that understood, captain? A shift of her hand, holding his face as she leaned over him. Inches apart. Her lips were close to his, ghosting as she spoke. "And that is only to prove you're not a traitor." Abruptly she pushed him back from her, harshly. "That does not repair the personal wounds you have inflicted upon me."
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Posted: Sat Nov 07, 2015 9:56 am
This was, Damian was fairly certain, the second most important performance of his life. He had successfully navigated the first, sold his "forced" corruption brilliantly enough that no one had even begun to question it.
But his first performance necessitated this second one - a delicate balancing act of convincing Porsha of his continued loyalty, to the Negaverse and to her personally. To oversell would convince her he was lying, as would to undersell. And if she was convinced he was lying, he had no doubt she would pass her suspicions on to Shale - and that would be the end, because Shale would, he was sure, be all too happy to play judge, jury, and executioner.
And even if not, it would make all his efforts to convince Shale - his honesty and openness about his plans with Victoria, in particular - would be entirely wasted.
"Understood, General," he said. That would make it harder to meet with Victoria or Mont Blonc - a lurking General's aura would complicate the entire thing. But that just meant it would have to wait.
"And how can I make this up to you?"
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Posted: Sun Nov 08, 2015 10:48 am
Making his life harder was sort of the point. If he had nothing to hide, if he was as loyal as he claimed to be, then there should be no reason she couldn't' accompany him on his night patrols. Everything she lay out for him, simple as it was, was a test. Things that would be so easy as an agent, but very nearly impossible as a turncoat. Even if he did manage, the emotional toll would be hard to hide. Clever, she thought. Cool eyes settled on him, there at her feet, and she crossed her arms as she sank back into the soft cushions of the couch. "Be creative." He was a smart young man, he'd managed to read her moods before now well enough, he'd figure it now. Or he wouldn't.
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