The night had been so promising when it started out. An SOS had been sent out, she had responded, and then it all went to hell. Now, Halia found herself at home, cleaning up some really angry bloody wounds and bandaging herself up. She was anything but pleased. In fact, she was outright seething.

"What the <********>!? What the ******** even was that!?" She threw the antiseptic across the room, not caring as it slammed into the bookshelf. She would pick it up later. Right now, all she could focus on outside of the pain was how much of an utter <********> the entire situation had been.

The SOS had no mention of them having a captive, no mention of why the Negaverse had come in raining hellfire and fury on them, and rightfully so in her personal opinion. If they had given them even the smallest bit of heads up, she was certain that there would have been a lot fewer injuries and it would have gone far better than it did. Instead, some nega with swords had sliced and diced her and the knight who was with her. Drombeg, she thought she recalled his name being. She had hoped he was okay and was able to get patched up. She was fortunate enough that she knew how to dress her own wounds, after years of extensive abuse, and that she had a fairly high pain tolerance. She hoped the others in the wreckage of that nightmare had all escaped okay, even if she thought whoever started that moronic scheme should have been vaporized. The seething rage was so alien to her, so unlike her normal passive, mild emotions, that if she had a clear head, she would likely be surprised by herself. Instead, all she could think was that Order had really ******** up, in so many different ways.

How could people who called themselves the "good guys" kidnap someone? That was so deeply against everything Halia had believed in, had believed her side believed in. It completely disillusioned her to the so called "Order" faction, her stomach turning just thinking about it. If this is what the Good Guys did... did she really want to be part of that? Was that something she could stomach? The more she thought about it, the more she knew that the answer was a firm, resounding "no." That was so far beyond anything she could ever abide by.

She winced and gritted her teeth as she finished applying a large bandage to her side, then worked on applying one to her hip. She knew she should likely go see a doctor, but that would probably raise too many questions. Maybe if she was lucky, it would heal fast. Maybe. Though she knew she was hardly ever, if at all, lucky. Especially lately. And with having work tomorrow, she would simply have to grin and bear it. And maybe pray to whatever cosmic entity was out there that she had strong enough pain meds in her cabinet to help with this.

The thought of work sobered her a bit and she frowned more. Work meant Keiran. Kieran meant Kerberos. Kerberos meant answers from someone who had been in this shitshow a lot longer than she had. The scowl on her face deepened as she thought about him. Would he know about this? Would he be surprised? Or worse... would he condone it? Her stomach twisted and she felt sick. No, no there was no way he would have. Right? She needed to talk to him, but upon glancing at the clock, she knew this would not be any sort of an appropriate hour to call up her friend and boss outside of a sheer emergency. She would simply have to wait until tomorrow. And tomorrow, she would get answers.