[i]“Come on, Vas, open the door!” “Vasilia isn’t here! You disturb the seal of a tomb, and the rightful rest of the dead!” “Who knew the dead would be so talkative?” “Maybe they’d be at peace if [u]robbers[/u] and [u]tresspassers[/u] could leave their sepulchres alone! Oh, that the family of the deceased had only paid her grave the proper respects, that Lord Hades would keep watch over her eternal sleep personally!” “Clarisa, move.” “Alright, fine, you try talking to her.” “Vasilia. There are five other ways I can get into that room, and I [u]know[/u] you haven’t seen to at least three of them. I have my pick of the lot, and if you don’t stop this at once, I’m going to choose ‘through the front door, with a battering ram’, and you can explain the mess to your father later.” “...” “....” “...Alethea?” “Yes?” “If I unlock the door, could you break it down just a little? Without scuffing the paint?”[/i] *********************************************************** [i]“How was I to know everyone in the ring was in his pocket?” A Vasilia-shaped lump of blankets bemoaned to her guests. “How could I have even prepared for that?! For all I know, he paid off the bloody referee, and Zeus too! To...to look the other way!” She fell hopelessly into a fresh bout of sobbing. “There, there…” Clarisa said, patting at the lump absently. “I think our fallen champion could do with some more tea. With extra sugars.” Aletha stood from the bed, but glanced back before taking a step. “Would you like that, ma’am?” Vasilia nodded through the tears and a ferociously quavering lip. As Alethea left for the kitchens, Clarisa pulled the miserable bundle of blankets to her lap, where she could smooth the errant hairs and shoosh the tired sobs. “It’s just-” Vasilia sniffed. Quieter, now. Smaller. “It’s just not fair.” “Oh, Vas...” Clarisa sighed, taking her tearstained face in both hands. “Life isn’t fair.”[/i] *********************************************************** Any Hermetic in the room who had made a study of post-Directive linguistics might learn a few new, fascinating adjectives in the hodgepodge tongue of Lakkos. Everyone else hearing the jagged edges of Vasilia’s vocabulary could get pretty close to the meaning anyway. What a place of learning this was turning out to be! So many valuable lessons! Chief among them, that Zeus’ fabled protections didn’t apply to hosts zapping their guests with bloody eccentrics, apparently! Forget to update the rules for this millennium? Or were you too busy critiquing her social life?! And don’t you [i]dare[/i] answer any of that, Thunderer. If she hears one word. One. Word. Out of your mouth, she will rip these chains apart and beat you all the way back to your bloody useless Olympus! Then, once you’ve been beaten within an inch of your eternal life, [i]then[/i] you can start telling her how bloody sorry you are! [i]Stop.[/i] The chains strained to hold her chest at every furious breath. [i]Stop it, now.[/i] A low growl built in the back of her throat, a snarl curling her lips. [i]You are Captain, Vasilia. Captain of the Plouseious, on a quest from Hades, your crew is watching, and we will [u]not[/u] go to pieces before she does![/i] And then, it died. Her fangs retreated. Her breathing slowed, slowed, slowed. When Bella finally turned her attentions to her, she did not return the favor. She sat tall, proud, unbowed by her chains, as if she’d chosen to be inconvenienced this way. The very picture of injured, (re)composed dignity, proud in the face of cruel fate. And cruel cats. Only...less cruel than expected? A flicker of surprise broke through her mask, a slight arching of the brows, before all was still again. With everything going her way, she rather expected the cur would be making a meal out of this. Well, a bigger meal than she already was. Curious... Vasilia resumed looking vaguely off in the distance, at more important things than this moment. She did not look at either Bella, nor away from either Bella, even as one Bella grabbed her chin and forced away most of her vision. Either would be an acknowledgement, and she was not prepared to surrender even that much. “Given your track record,” Vasilia sniffed. “I look forward to seeing how this chapter of your life falls apart.”