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Whether it was lucky or unlucky, 10mm x 60m non-dry climbing rope had been chosen for its impact resistance, its bit of give, and its thinness to wrap many times at points to lock his elbows and wrists, then again his thighs to his calves. It was smart going- even with powered strength and brute force, Titan couldn't get leverage or enough force to break them. He was effectively hobbled. Teleporting didn't work for some reason. He'd tried long and short length, focusing to pull the energy along each limb.

There were sounds of movement sometimes- more than just the count that had taken him hostage. Are there others?

His mind came time and again to that question. To who else may have been capture. To what Order could possibly want with any of them. He didn't know how long it had been. Then sound of the door and steps, a voice-

Such a small noble. Bright against the dim and drab of a cell decades abandoned. "Captain Titanlåvenite, little noble. "

"What is yours?"

"Just 'Titan' is what people use. I have no rank here."

"I have never seems...no..seens the Southern Lights." Nerves. He breathed deep and tried to speak more slowly. This senshi wasn't Colin, who'd long ago grown used to how his accent turned his English awry with stress. "I have seen the Northern Lights often from Lofoten and Trøndelag. "

"I miss them." Maybe this senshi was nervous, too. He seemed out of sorts. What hurt I took is not so bad now. We heal fast. It was not a sword, or teeth. I am off schedule for meals and working out. "Not so much. But I am thirsty. There is no water, and I am bound. "

He didn't know what to expect of this captivity. His own kind had taken a very modern view of hostage, and leveraged hunger and thirst against their captives in interrogation. Of old, so far as Titan understood the stories he knew, captives and officers under ransom should be treated better. The jail cell itself wasn't encouraging that this was shared. Not that he had any inkling that the Negaverse understood or followed ransom etiquette- he didn't think that Laurelite would be paying anything, or signing treaties for any of their release.

He offered a tired, but genuine smile, "If it is allowed."

The sight of tiny hands around a tiny paper cup as a source of water was both blessed and ridiculous. Titan did not laugh or scoff, though. It was still a gift. A mouthful or two of water, what could it even be? Five ounces? It was something against the debt that the engine of his body worked up quickly. He seems soft in voice and manner. Maybe he is young. Maybe he would take message out from here?

As the hands were slowly lowering, the small lord keeping to an elegance of movement and plainly distracted some in thought, Titan leaned forward on the balance and hold of his stomach muscles to follow the drop of hands a moment and press his lips to some of the curled fingers. "Thank you."

Then the captain sat back again on his legs in the forced kneel. "There is not choice? Our hands are dangerous. We can pull starseeds. And we can call our weapons, wherever they are. It is a lot to risk on oath. There is not honor in this war."

"Will we be ransomed?" Even if it wasn't likely, there was some merit to asking. And he used 'we', hoping to hear if there were others.

"I would like more when ever you would like to bring it. It is not a hurry."

It was a promising sign that he didn't back completely away to the door again, but stayed near. "No, I am not angry. We are enemies in a war. That can mean many terrible things are done."

"I knew it and accepted it when I kissed the hilt and blade of my Lord." When I served him. The melancholy thought followed immediately on the tail of the statement. "I am afraid. But that is different."

"Are you angry?"

"Sometimes harsh things are necessary in war. Sometimes. Not all times. It is better when the nobles can meet with words. " It was strange to hear of someone having it pulled who was still there, standing in front of him. It had been gotten back, intact, evidently. That was a rare and lucky thing compared to how many must be taken in any few months to provide for agents being expected to have one on them in the case of an emergency. "I don't want to be vicious. I thought...it was not the sword that chose how it was wielded. True enough, maybe...but the sword must be kept sharp and clean. That is a reflection of the hands of the noble that wield it. I have killed people, and fought in the name of the Throne of Earth...it has not been gentle. It was not good."

"I hope that is different than vicious? You seem very kind. Does it make a difference, to you, if an enemy is vicious or not when they have done what you think is wrong? "

"Do you have a something that drives you to be in this? Words, or some other reason?" It was possible that was why someone gentle choose to spend time face to face with a prisoner. It could be that thing about two cops. Titan didn't think that was it? A rifling through any immediate memory and thought didn't produce anything that seemed like it should be worthwhile or wanted for against pain. Information was better sourced from information officers. The surprise that Titan himself wasn't vicious could have something to do with it. Youth frequently took to heart lessons that generalized all members of an enemy as monsters. He had had, in some degree, himself when Obsidian had first offered him some strands of information.

It had been confusing and alarming when Kairatos and Hvergelmir had come to Michigan Jack's just to see whether he was alright in the wake of Castor's declarations.

Maybe they don't really know about the divisions? But Realgar has joined them. And others? At least some of that has to be known. Maybe not who belongs to each with updated rosters.

"It is good and difficult to know where we belong. I am glad you are certain." Titan looked down at 'you lot'. The words themselves felt unkind. It aligned with the fear that sad heavy in his empty stomach.

"I do not think any one officers is very like any other. I have not met any like me."

"My heart was moved for love of my lord. He spoke to me. He told me about the war, and the Throne of Earth. Then for its power and autonomy. There are many rights of lordship, vassalage, and consent that are broken. I used to read old stories- there are rules to magic in them. I don't understand so well. Belief and hard work could revive old promises. I hoped the Throne would come to power again with tending. I hoped it would protect the Earth again. A King or Queen makes their land flourish through themselves and their vassals." He kept his face down-turned. He knew none of that to have been accurate now, unlike when he had started. Obsidian would not have him. Metallia was a usurper and parasite. A grim, numb, oil like feeling crept along his limbs- it felt like it didn't matter.