Étoile. Étoile, Étoile, Étoile... precious star, precious shell, whiny brat. Sniveling, sneaking, prowling, begging, mewling... [i]Weak.[/i] How do you imagine she would go about securing such a useful place as this? Fool. Of course she grovelled. Prissy little twit, playing her politics, paying her compliments, scurrying about from spot to spot making debt after debt of favors to other, still smaller cowards and passing messages between them until at last she had the ear of someone with enough clout to make arrangements. [i]Vive la résistance![/i] That is how they play their game. And of course when all was said and done and all her paltry currency spent, what had little Étoile accomplished? Only that she had marked off a safe house for others more useful than she. Who would not thank her for it. Who would not credit her for it. Who would never even know that she'd done it. And what would she do with it anyway, ah? She is a performer swallowed by her masks. She is even less than she seems! [i]I[/i] am her truth! [i]I[/i] am her power! [i]I[/i] am the mover of mountains, the thief of hearts! I am her fire! I am the revolution made manifest! I am the face that haunts their opulent nightmares, and this! Is! [i]MY![/i] Night! What care have I for the silly worries of darling Étoile? What concern is it of mine if her precious Lady goes hungry or works herself into such a tizzy that she dies, snap! Just like that? Good! Annunaki scum! There is more to judge their kind on than the simple beauty of their souls. Tamytha would never cut herself from her family, so she wears chains enough to drown herself. I do not need to make it happen. I need only wait and choose [i]not[/i] to pull her free. There is no such thing as an ethical slave owner. So I! I will not sleep, [i]non![/i] Marianne will not dive back into the sea of the soul until her hunger is sated, [i]non non non![/i] Étoile, [i]quelle conasse,[/i] you can suffer the consequences after. You will need to endure pain tonight in any case. Injuries must be inflicted or they will never believe that Ma-Ri-Ann held you like an enemy. Suffer and be glad for it, Étoile. You are only tolerated because you make it simpler to... *** Marianne stops mid-stride. She's been prowling in the background of this entire conversation, ever since she dragged Canada's ass back out of the frying pan. There's just enough lull to burn herself into this moment. She barks her laughter: a pair of short HAs as she tosses her head back. "She means to rot the 'Great Chain' from the middle links outward. Our pretty Set has pinned her hopes on the truth alerting Annunaki to the depravity of their lives. She wants them to join the revolution!" HA! She sneers, and for a second her face twists with the same theatricality she shows on a Job. It's a useless gesture; she knows her barking doesn't frighten other Phantom Thieves. She's simply angry right now, that's all. A moment later and it passes, leaving her simply cast in the obscuring shadows of her hood and her mask. She does not glow or burn at all. "[i]Il n’y a pas plus sourd que celui qui ne veut pas entendre,[/i] Set. They will not bend their ears. They do not wish to hear your song! The least of them luxuriate in endless comforts; they do not care if their Ishtar is the first Ishtar or the thousandth, so long as she exists. And even if they did, what then? This is not a secret unknown to the true powers of their society. They keep it in a library! They will prepare a spin, Set, and those who do not swallow their line they will disappear and re-educate. You cannot spark a fire by passing out pamphlets. I forbid it. I will not have it!" She needs another moment to regain herself. These are precious companions, she cannot do her work without them. She must speak clearly. They must understand. She must breath. Breath, yes. Be calm, Marianne. Be still. Patient. She sighs. "We have plenty more scandals among our spoils if we wish to spread discord among the ranks. But it is essential that they do not guess why we struck tonight. If they know what we know, they will guess what we have learned. If they know our intentions and our needs, they will take greater care to block our path. Not even you or I can walk where they do not let us, Set. They'll crush us like ants the moment we let them. Do you see? Gilgamesh is gone. There are no Children of Tiamat. Just us." And she lunges, but it's only to draw both other girls into a crushing hug. "Oh sisters! Be careful! Do not be seen, do not be caught! My time is up. If you need me, leave a mark in the usual places. Remember the rule! Unanimous consent! I do not give it, Set, I do not!" And with a final squeeze, a shove, and a bow, Marianne leaps into the ceiling of the hideout, and is gone.