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[WARNING: Scenes in this RP may contain graphic content.]


It was a perfectly alright meeting place, the lamp post. It never needed specification, eavesdroppers couldn't possibly understand, and Alkaid was often strolling the park anyway and wouldn't necessarily stand out more here than anywhere else. There was also the added bonus that it seemed to be one of the few places in the world she actually had fond memories of. It was an afterthought, but still a thought.

Her bright amber eyes looked up at the night sky above her, tracing patterns she had known for as long as she could remember, back to Khalla's very first memories. It was strange to see the stars and think of her parents, but she wondered, too, if it were odder that she only cared about the stars? Her own hung up there on display, thousands of lightyears away but little more than a blink of the eyes for the starseed that lodged in her chest. There was always an awareness of what direction her home belonged, like a sixth sense lingering in the back of her mind.

The ascendant seemed particularly anxious, at least by her standards. Her brows had just begun to furrow and her the purse of her lips seemed more severe, giving her a troubled air. No wonder, though, when she knew the Prince of Hail was alone in the grand hall of her castle, leaned into her throne and plotting his escape. She narrowed her eyes out of reflex, as if she might be able to open the sky and see right into her castle. He was still incredibly defiant, which is why she couldn't manage this alone anymore.

She dropped her eyes out of annoyance and turned to look down the pathway in each direction for any sign of the golden-eyed man she was waiting for.

The ascendant finally saw him approaching in the distance and watched, stock still and silent. Clear annoyance faded and slipped away, going so far as to nearly be a smile instead - a little quirk at the corner of one lip. She remembered him walking the same path toward her countless times before and the memories seemed nearly at odds with the man approaching her. Here he was strong and confident, a warrior aged and weathered. Then? Then he had been more gentle, more playful, with that cocky sway in his step and that grin he never wore anymore..

Alkaid blinked a couple of times and shook her head very slightly as the memory rolled over her, forcing her awareness back to the front of her mind. That was a worrisome slip she didn't have time to digest, because he was already there, speaking in that voice that, too, was different.

What's a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?

A visible wince flitted across her face as she heard the echo, like a ghost in her memory, until she at last simply closed her eyes and brought her fingertips to her left temple. There was not time for this.

"Yes," she said, confident and crisp despite the way she had leaned her head just-so into her hand. "I need your help with Castor."

She sighed and opened her eyes at last, feeling more grounded as she spoke and forced herself to exist at face level. Her arm dropped to her side as her eyes opened to meet his, trying her best to appear unphased. It was unlikely that he wouldn't notice but, perhaps, if she just pretended it had never happened he would let her deal with it on her own.

"I didn't really think he would be cooperative but I had hoped for more.. progress."

"It's not important," the ascendant's voice was softer as she spoke, letting her eyes drop to the ground again. She wasn't foolish enough to think he hadn't noticed the difference in her demeanor but she didn't know what he could even do about these lapses, she didn't know what to do about them. Alkaid just saw little point in explaining something so unknown.

There was a long pause before she finally gave in to his words. Cracked lips pursed as she swept amber eyes up to look into his face, bracing herself against whatever the sight of him might trigger now. It felt impossibly hard to depend on someone that seemed so troublesome to her mind but she didn't trust anyone else or believe in anyone so much as him. Maybe it was bias, but they had been in this together for a long, long time. Normally all she felt in his presence was strength, but she hadn't been quite herself in a long while now.

She searched his face slowly and felt relieved when no memory jogged loose in her skull. It made her more confident in her ability to move forward with her mission, especially with his help. Every moment that passed made her feel more grounded until at last she managed to straighten the last of the tension from her shoulders.

"I haven't been very keen on leaving him alone because having him is not the same as keeping him," it was an explanation of her absence and lack of information on Castor, but nothing else. She extended her hand to him, palm out. "I don't have time to waste on anything else."

The concern was plain on his face to her, the creature that studied every detail of human emotion for her own mimicry, and it made her want to sigh just to show her how annoying she found her sudden situation. She didn't, though, and only nodded at his request.

"Later," she said softly, letting the subject fall away from them.

Alkaid's true name was on his lips, different than the last she had heard it, but no less thrilling even to her now - as she was, as they were. She could have laughed at how ridiculous it was to be triggered by human interaction - Castor was a personality and he was pushing it onto her, making her weak and human. Part of her wondered if he knew she was so unstable that this could be done or if it had been happenstance that he figured it out at all. Never before had she wanted so badly to feel nothing.

"Don't be so amazed with me yet, Chase." A man she had not seen in a very, very long time. "I'm human enough yet to make mistakes." The smile at the end made it seem more light-hearted than she really felt, but it was a good cover. Who even knew what her real smile looked like anymore? The hand in his tightened and in the blink of an eye they had ripped through time and space to stand directly in the entrance chamber of her grand castle.

Ahead of them the great double doors of her throne room swang on their hinges - inside beat the wild pulse of Castor's bright energy. The other two remained, still.

"Would you like to make your introduction?" Her fingers slid from his own and she felt more grounded, here, by her planet's energy.

Alkaid had left him to his own devices. More than once, but never for more than a few moments. Usually, she left his vision, but she would remain on her world, that dark hum of power that was around him like smoke. Irritating, yet inescapable. He had chafed at the sheer thrum on chaotic energy at first, but now it was not as irritating. It no longer made him want to wretch at any given moment.

Yet this time, she'd been gone. Truly, off her world and away from him. A time the royal had not wasted. The crystal still dug into skin, cutting flesh new with each movement yet the prince had tried once again to free himself of the chains, had tried to reach the solidified chaos in his back to remove it. Fresh blood marked his hands from where he'd touched the wound, and groves in the floor around him spoke of recent struggles to free himself.

Alkaid's return only stilled his actions, and sent a fresh wave of dread through him.
She'd brought company.

His eyes were sunken from lack of energy and proper sustenance, and it was clear the prince was worn down. The only sign that he resisted were the fresh marks around him, and the fact his gaze held a vibrant loathing and malice for the General who's joined him in the room.

"..." Silence was not his forte, and a smile cracked his dry lips, tongue coming out to wet them, prevent them from splitting as he talked.
"It is proper to show respect before royalty. Or do your leaders no longer care of formality?" The words were raspy and Castor chuckled briefly, looking around to try and see Alkaid.

When he noticed her power so close-
"Labyrinthite. Laby. Lab. You sound like a dog, A b***h to a b***h." Castor did not stand, only moved to sit more comfortably, hands folding in his lap.
"An inconsequential tool that will be used until you serve no purpose. If that's all you can leave. You'll be an ineffective tool, just as Stripes is." He would not bend. He would not break.

Eyes that nearly mirrored the ascendant's swept across the bound form of the senshi prince. His gaze was cold, his sweeping assessment calculated and there was no way he could miss the metallic smell of blood. Fingers rapped against the bone staff in his grip and his twisted grin faltered.

It's proper to show respect before royalty.

Immediately he thought of their new queen, her words echoing in his head and increasing in volume before they escaped his own mouth. "The Negaverse bows for no one," he stated, cold and stoic. If Castor's taunts bothered him, it did not show and the general remained looking unfazed. "Just because you demand respect because of a title that means nothing to me does not mean you will receive it.

There was only one white moon royal that had his respect and even then it was a respect born of hatred and rivalry. Castor would have to earn his on a personal level. It didn't matter to Labyrinthite that the prince was a force of nature, quite literally with his sphere, and had been a thorn in the Negaverse's side.

Besides, with their positions as they were there was little to be concerned about. Not with Alkaid at his side on her homeworld. Energy from it coiled around them like a thick cloud and while it did not strengthen him the way it did his companion it still empowered him. Encouraged him to fear little.

It was the chance of a lifetime, Metallia's knight knew.

"Think what you will of me Castor, word play does little to phase me these days." Bright eyes shifted to meet similar ones, it was with a firm nod that encouraged her to step aside. He lifted his weapon one handed, shifted it in his hand so the bird skull would be the part that slammed into Castor when he swung, throwing his weight into it once he knew Alkaid was far enough back to be out of range.

The swing was followed by a second one, the blade twisting in the air as it the scythe came back down.

"I don't think you understand. Where her strength is lacking, mine is not."

Wordlessly, Alkaid had dropped her hand and stepped slowly to the side. It didn't take much of a cue for her to know he wanted to take the reigns and she was pleased to let him do so. She took her place just out of the radius of his scythe as she saw his body shift to accommodate the weight, lacing her fingers together and letting her arms hang in front of her.

As the first hit connected, her lips pursed but she did not flinch or look away. Her bright eyes traveled from the clean, if partial, slice up to the look on Castor's face. No, he hadn't expected that one. It was a small victory in her book to see him break down beneath the pain with no way to mask it. There were no words his tongue would find to speak in the midst of such pain and, she was sure, he would be weakened by the amount of blood spurting from the open wound now. A single, pale hand reached down and caught the edge of Castor's wing with her fingertips - it was heavier than she expected, but still child's play as she began to drag it away from him. The smear of blood spread across the dark crystal of her grand hall until she let it go, at last, far away from the writhing prince.

"Do you understand now?"

Her words echoed Labyrinthite's as she came to stand at the General's side once more, her fingertips stained red from the blood of the Senshi. There was a calmness to her as she watched Castor that suggested she took no more joy in the act of torture than she did in anything else - it was simply a necessity, something that need be done to get the results she wanted. There was a frown on her lips as she watched him worm pathetically in an attempt to reach a wing that was no longer attached, to dull a pain that must have been immense. She stepped forward, trying to grab his attention with the pointed click of her heels.

"This is not a game I want to keep playing, but I will. We will."

The Ascended turned and let her gaze fall back on the man she knew so well, looking from his manic smile to the blood dripping from the blade of his scythe. There was some affection there behind her pursed lips and pensive eyes, but she couldn't say for sure. Mostly it was pride - he was strength and power and determination, making up for faults that still existed in her character without questioning himself. She knew there were worse things in life than being bound to someone like him.

As she shifted, she felt the tacky residue of blood clinging to the bottoms of her heels. Her eyes dropped and narrowed at the evidence of his bloodloss. They were going to have to bind that if they didn't want him bleeding out before the night was over.

Cruel
Inhuman
Monstrous

Torture was the tool men used to break men. It was the crime born of want for more. It was the resort when all other methods failed. Torture, the one thing he abhorred in the most basic of forms, yet practiced in necessity.
This too, was necessity.

White vision gave only glittering silhouettes of light that dotted the edges of his vision, and the dull sounds of voice and flesh on stone echoed in his mind. In the back of his panic and shock aided mind he knew that he could very well die from the wound. The wing was a creation of his magic, though it was as form and flesh as the rest of him. The crystal in him would not given the respite of his eternal form. Even then, he didn't know what the loss of limb might reflect. Broken wings left a pain that lingered even in his human guise.

A loss was a loss, and it was a new unknown. It was a new fear. It was a new way they had chipped into him and his defenses.

Fear was what made him weak. It was what made the sound of unlimited power so appealing.
It was what made the subjugation to Chaos almost sound sweet.

His breathing was frantic as his heart, fingers desperately clutching the stump and the bloodflow began to weaken. Shock was cutting the limb away. Shock was saving him for the moment.

Blue eyes finally saw beyond the pale white and could see the outline of black boots. Slowly, jerkily, his head went up as his eyes read the words he couldn't hear, sound lost to the beat of his heart.

He sucked in gulps of air, wanting to fight.
He was Castor. He was the prince who had cheated death before he'd had the power fight darkness. He was the man who had died dozens of lifetimes for a world that had seen him as less a man and more a god, leaving him with a hollow existence. He was the one who remembered the face of his own child who he'd slain to appease his world lifetime after lifetime. He would be the prince who would die before he'd submit.

"I bleed." He would defy. Defiance was what had cheated death before.
"Blood will not break me. You cannot break me."

The cry of power and an inhuman scream of rage, the magic rose above them like a cloud, angry and oppressive. Ice shards hung in the air for just a second before they were sent downward in a wave, the prince rising up to his knees for a moment to watch his power around him.

All before he fell, the blood around him frozen and brittle, his magic unconstrained and ending with a a shudder as the royal collapsed.