Hell Hath no Fury

[Guppy]

Life, and death in this case, had a strange pattern to it. All the same, it was difficult to envision where it would take you, the creature mused to itself. It sat upon Catch's stump, wearing the girl's skin and gazing upon the lake nearby. The lake that tried to claim the girl. Legs were folded before her as Son had done and her posture was perfection as It balanced there nimbly. It sat and It mused on the past. Not even one as old as She could have foreseen that as life-force ebbed from her form, She would linger on this plane. Trapped, more like. No one could have thought that the once-proud, once-great entity would end up sharing a fate with a young, pretty girl. A young woman who differed from her in almost every manner. A young woman who had the power, if not the fortitude, to cast the creature off with a thought. At least at the beginning. Now, now they were trapped with one another.

They had started out as enemies, combatants fighting over control of this flimsy frame. Over time, they had come to depend upon one another. It was not certain when that occurred. When they first arrived in this small section of humanity, Myrken Wood and the Broken Dagger, the girl had whispered warnings against the darkness in her soul. She had tearfully pleaded with those who fell prey to her immense, innocent eyes to help her combat the beast. The big bad wolf biting at her heels. The Entropy she sensed from the monster made the damsel in her uneasy. Somewhere along the way, the situation shifted and the two found themselves allies. Family. Found themselves dependent upon the other in ways they could scarcely fathom, in the beginning of their accord. The girl began to crave malevolence as if it were her bread and butter. She began to court Death as a curiosity. The creature supposed that it had only been a matter of time. One could not creep so close to the edge of the abyss without wondering what lay beyond. One could not linger that close to wickedness without a bit of it staining one's own soul. That numbered chief among It's proudest accomplishments. The corruption of the innocent.

They had come so far with one another.

Now, though. Now the girl's fragile heart had allowed the boy-Knight to creep within it. She had abandoned thoughts of the rogue that she had fallen for because he had not Looked back. Elliot Brown had not loved her, but Elliot Gahald might. The creature did not like the future it saw approaching. Marriage and children and keeping a home were certainly not tolerable. Not when she found herself trapped in this shell. The monster would not sit idly by as the young woman took aim at mediocrity. That's what Lady Rhaena's world meant, after all. Everything was Pretty and Kind and Good. No darkness upon their doors. No shadow to ruin the light. All would join hands and they would Happy.

To hell with that.

It had allies, such as they were. They had not proven themselves particularly useful just yet, but It was stubborn. Maxwell. Life-Catch. The new-found Son. The ever-vital Niall. It supposed It could include Gloria, grudgingly. Giuseppe? Once, It thought so, but the Dark One had abandoned her. Perhaps all of his talk was just that. She had given in and accepted his help. Considered working with the snake that was Rhaena. And he had turned his back upon her. Her eyes narrowed on the lake and the grass around the stump began curling and dying in her fury. Magic pulsed once in the air, thickening it with unseen slime and mold.

The man would pay for making her the fool.

[Glenn]

It was not easy being the Man In White. He was tasked to keep the peace, to enforce a sort of stability in an artificial system, one that was not self-sustaining. It was a role he had never been in before. Oh, he had been an agent of the status quo before, though far more often one of instability, but he was never the one making the decisions, never the one trying to move the pieces on the board. Even so, he had some of the training and the environment was conducive enough. Moreover, there was the mental modifications done by Rhaena Olwak, the surgery that kept him alive and made him something more. It let him deal with multiple tasks like never before.

If only it wasn't for the burning. If only it wasn't for the fire. Distracting, clenching at his chest, dragging him down. It meant he couldn't anticipate the Kaczmarek grasp. It meant he couldn't yet deal with Catch once and for all. It meant that there were parties and actors darting around Myrken and he was too distracted to pin them down and stop them once and for all. Things slipped.

One of those things was It, his Megera, the creature inside the Whelp. To be fair, he had only ever been mildly drawn to It. The Being could be useful but he had learned from his interactions with Pantha, from his deals with the Storyteller; the cost was too high. The cost was always too high. Why then was he coming back for more and more again? Part of him needed to know the truth in a primal way, an inhuman way that even Burnie never had. This was part of the price of his deal. It was why he made an effective High Inquisitor. It was a part that he could often stifle however.

Perhaps it was that her interest interested him, but then on this matter, he could not blame miscreants and fire. No, the Lady Marshall had taken his attention and created a circle of self-recrimination and helpless fascination. He was chasing his own tail and it disrupted this interaction as much as anything else.

Still, he had asked her to the lake and that was where he headed now. The stump, as it was, was one the way there.

[Guppy]

He had left her a letter, a message, and told her to wear something so he would know her. So, of course, she wore the shift most common to the whelp. He did not give her orders. His waning attention had solidified her position on the opposite side of the Lady thus far. Though, the creature seemed just as likely to abandon them all to their fates and find another hearth to call her home.

Giuseppe had been a temptation born with some thanks due to his longevity. The others would wither and die, in time. She would continue to evade Death with her whelp at her side. Unless, of course, something better came along. The woman waited for him upon the stump and gazed into the distance. It's thoughts lingered on the others It had come to know. Son. The boy was an enigma. It reminded her of her interest in Elliot, such a short time ago. Long, toned legs unfolded suddenly and she stretched them out - arms lifting and the fabric tightened over her chest. Easing into the girl's form for a longer stay.

It had thought long and hard about whether she should come. She was still somewhat undecided in her position. Should he approach, the look she gave him was devoid of interest and her gaze did not catch upon him overly long. Those ebony eyes settled upon the lake as she pushed herself to her feet. Hands clasped at her back and she began making her way towards the shore. "What do you want?," she asked, the line, hard line of anger hidden neatly within the boredom in her voice.

[Glenn]

"I was hoping for a better show, Megera." Giuseppe was laconic. The wine was not his southern favorite but it was a sight better than Derry Red. He'd come out with two glasses. The stump seemed a rather poor choice but that was fine. If she had been in a better mood, he wouldn't have minded finding a better place to go. She was a counterweight, a counterbalance and he needed that right now. "Life is full of disappointment, yes? I would know more than most. Perhaps you know too?"

She was off to the shore and he followed, one foot practically dragging behind the next. "I have had a terrible month." and then with a bit of curiosity. "Did you have to negotiate with her to come out tonight? A scratch of her back and she scratches yours or are you still in control despite it all?"

[Guppy]

"Luckily for me, your hopes have no bearings upon my actions, hm?," she returned. The vegetation around the stump crunched and snapped under his feet. It had been killed in quite an unnatural manner. Even the stump had signs of decay, warped bark and pock-marked hide. The air around the woman was thick with magic, snapping with intensity. He asked if she knew of the disappointments of life. The toothy grin she leveled upon him had no trace of amusement and a dash of threat. "More than most."

He followed behind her as those booted feet took her towards the silent shore with its lapping waves. She stood upon it and gazed at the dark waters. "Have you?," she asked, with no small amount of glee. She was making no secret of her anger, taking no steps to hide her emotion. When he asked after the whelp, she threw him a sharp look. "I took control. She sleeps. She would not have fought it, though. She no longer enjoys your company. Strange, usually threats against her life do not upset her." A flick of those eyes over his frame before they returned to the watery depths. Decay followed them here, the vegetation paying the price of her temper.

[Glenn]

"Does she still enjoy you getting your way, I wonder?" Giuseppe spoke idly even as he poured into the two glasses. It was done with some real skill despite the fact he only had one hand to do it with. "To be fair, I never quite enjoyed her company and i imagine i'd enjoy it less now that she's becoming a little princess. I'm surprised you can bear it." A glass was held out as he caught up to her. The look on his face was somewhere between amused and bemused. "I did not expect you to be so upset with me, Megera. I hardly thought you would deign yourself to care about anyone so. I am touched.

"Drink your wine." This was an order. She could refuse it like she did the clothing but then she'd just seem petty. It was, of course, her choice. "I was going to offer you something more official, something more meaningful. You seem to think that the rule to come shall be like a ripe apple, yes? Beautiful. Red. Healthy. Invigorating. The perfect symbol of life and light. It's rotten to the core, bella. I'm the worm. I would know."

[Guppy]

"You know the whelp. She thinks herself weaker than she is. I use it to my advantage, so I don't rightly mind." The two glasses were considered with lowered lashes and a half-sneer upon her face. Highly debating flinging the wine in his face instead of accepting. Finally, her hand shot out to accept the chalice - seeking to brush her fingers against his own. The touch was important. Vital. The chill radiating from the woman was enough to send shivers down one's spine, but Giuseppe was used to darkness. Used to decay and death. "We do not communicate any more than we have to any longer. We are separate again. I have my time and she has hers." She stared out at the lake, watching the reflection of the moon upon its placid surface. "She drowned. I almost let her go, but Son asked me to bring her back so nicely." She breathed, tongue laving her lower lip at the thought of the boy's ache for violence. A glance askance at him, filled with that displeasure he found himself buried in. "I don't know why you complain. You live your entire life among all manner of princesses and ladies."

Finally, the glass was lifted and thrown back. The liquid vanished down her throat in an instant, throat working attractively in the moonlight. Afterwards, giving in to her petulance, it was heaved into the waters of the lake. The defiance upon her features was plain. Unapologetic. "I do not enjoy being ignored. If you find yourself so bored with me, then we are finished here, aren't we? Don't waste my time," she snapped, with poison in her voice, her eyes going wild with her words before she managed to ensnare her own temper and that casual indifference eased upon her features.

"Tell me otherwise," she challenged.

[Glenn]

He glanced to the lake twice, once when she mentioned that the Whelp had almost drowned. He had no idea who this son was, but it brought back harsh, harsh memories of another time at this lake and the death of an unborn son, the worst sin and the greatest mercy he had performed in Myrken Wood. The second time to look at the lake was when she threw the glass. He shrugged. Perhaps when Burnie came back he could send someone else down in a bubble to go fetch it. It was a nice enough glass. Ah well.

"It's maddening," Giuseppe laughed. "Manners. I am good at manners, yes? I was trained by tutors, because respectability was important to my family. What we did was not respectable at all so it was important how we did it was. It was all a lie, lies upon lies, a... how would you say it? A tapestry of lies, one line knitted over the next, knit? I don't know how tapestries are made. You get the idea though. It worked though. We had the power and through proper behavior we had the prestige. What else is there?" Certainly not something as unimportant as truth. "It's like being home except for home was business. Home made sense. This is madness." He sipped at his wine showing such restraint. "It is my lot, though, as much as you are the Whelp's."

Then, he would look to her, a wry smile glued to his face. "It is just amusement you seek then? All you want out of life, unlife. Amusement?"

[Guppy]

He told her that it was maddening to be constrained in such decorum and the look upon her face was one of casual disbelief. "Still. You have adapted well enough," she remarked, running tongue across her teeth to savor the wine before the flavor vanished. Their interaction held very little emotion on her part, as if she were not certain he deserved her attention any longer. The water nearest them began to boil, but upon her notice, it stopped abruptly. Dark eyes fluttered closed and the leaking magic vanished. Kept now firmly in hand. He may have felt very little for the creature, but it was clear that he had managed to claim her ire. He was not beneath her notice where most others lurked. He was important, much to her chagrin. The reason behind such was unclear. The symptoms of it lay strewn around them - dead blades of grass withered and black, ash-like soil. Insects fled the area as if chased by devils, trying to escape the death that caught up with them near the edges of the entropy. The magic gave away just how much feeling lingered just under the surface of their conversation. "You make a very pretty picture with your manners and your pet names. Very charming," she complimented, though it had more than a little disdain.

He asked after her amusement and those eyes darted over towards him. They narrowed. "I seek power. Wealth. Worthy companions to watch the world burn," she snapped. The mention of fire might have made him uneasy. Fingers twitched and it seemed something she learned from the whelp. "I would not dislike a little destruction for amusement's sake. Life is long. I have time to savor the roses," eyes tore from his again to focus on the lake where his no-doubt expensive glass rested upon the bottom. "There is much going on in your pretty world, I've heard. A new player assuming power. Do you think that you will find need of a new Mistress soon? Will you wither and die, once more?," she asked, speaking likely of the Vice-Governor.

[Glenn]

"It's hardly a pet name, bella." He laughed then. The word had rolled off of his tongue, reflex, and that, of course was a pet name. "Megera. It's your name. No one else has stepped forward. The Whelp is Miss Noura, yes? I tire of seeing an X here and an X there. It's a word from my people. You would like it." He did not, of course, tell her what the translation was,what the word meant. He took liberties and if she did not stop him, if she let him name her, well, that would be a powerful thing indeed. No one else was so forward, though. Elliot Brown had promised to but never quite managed it. Gloria might have threatened it but come up with something hardly suitable. This was a name and a word with meaning and it was from him. Effort.

She spoke of the future and he shrugged. "Agnieszka Kaczmarek is a creature of chaos. Burnie put her where he did in order to do just this. To shake up the board, he would say, though he said it fondly. I do not. She'll shake up the board and very likely Rhaena will use that to shake all the pieces into the places she likes. She will cling to the chaos, though, I think, to the chance to turn people into dolls. Before I had it contained. Now I do not. She'll bewitch more people, will hollow out their souls, with far less care than with Brown or Emory. You'll have plenty of opportunity to play with these dolls how you like, to fill their emptiness, if you just come in out from the cold. There are people who can't be changed or can't be bought. I am High Inquisitor. You could be her secret executioner, her headsman, her warden. It would give you a full mandate to punish almost anyone you wished for laws you could interpret almost however you wanted. You could have your fun, Megera."

[Guppy]

A pointed glance as he called her bella again. Pet names indeed. "Megera. If I would like it, then what does it mean?," she asked. Demanded. "I'm not sure that I want anything from you, much less a name. I am not pleased with you." As if he wasn't aware of that. The mood shifted, though. Instead of raw fury, there was petulance. There was arms crossing and finally, finally the woman turned to face him. To glare at him. The true test would be if she called herself by the name. Time would only tell.

He seemed out of his element. Almost bothered at the change. The chaos that Agnie brought to his sculpted world. He had been poised in a position for Lady Rhaena to do the least amount of damage possible. Coaxing her into doing the least amount of damage possible. "Do you fear that she will hollow you out as well?," she asked, her gaze flitting over his form as if he were a prized bull. As if she were debating purchasing him. He still fancied her working for the Lady, did he? After the space of silence between them?

"You ignored me for weeks to come to me about this now?," she questioned, still in firm grasp of her anger. For now. "Almost anyone? Well, then. What if you are the only one I wish to punish, darling?," she asked, moving to step closer to him. A short breadth away. Her skin shone pale in the moonlight, the other-worldly glow about her that occurred whenever It was present. The girl was so fetching these days. Death did not cling to her like it once had. At least not in the same ways.

[Glenn]

Petulance. It was actually the largest emotion between he and the Lady Olwak and held on both sides. With It, though, he had a different attitude. The stakes were completely different. She asked three questions, or perhaps two questions and then one very pointed statement. He dealt with them in turn, going so far as to refill his glass between the first and the second even as she encroached closer and closer. "Oh, translations are such fickle things. Let us say it means that you are a woman not to be trifled with and leave it at that."

He was practically inviting her wrath down upon him and had to know that. Wasn't that the attitude that had drawn her to him in the first place on some level, though? In truth, there was also the fact that while she talked big and showed some magical effects, he had never actually seen her do much of note. Perhaps he was taking a weighted risk.

He sipped his wine before answering her second question. "Oh, that might be a relief, no? No more worries. This place could chew itself up and I would be nonethewiser? I say that now, of course, but in the moment, I would not like it." Another shrug. "It is my feeling that she cannot or else she might have already. There are other things she can do to me. Other reliance I have upon her. It is not a constant fear but as I said, in the moment I would not seek it."

Then she mentioned her need and despite the feeling of power in the air he tried to tap at her cheek twice with his hand with the glass in it. "Ah, Megera. You will feel better for a moment after punishing poor Giuseppe, yes? For one nice moment. Then what? Then you continue to wane. She waxes still. You are isolated and your fun is over. You want power. I offer it. It may be a more subtle power than what you generally like to chew upon but we are in a strangely subtle land. One must adapt."

[Guppy]

There was a flicker of something within her eyes. They were difficult things to read, given their complexity and depth, but he had practice. He had spent more time with the creature than anyone else. He knew her, even if he didn't know it. Perhaps what he saw meant that she was pleased with the name. "Perhaps you will not forget that very important detail if I take your name," she mentioned, considering with thoughtful expression. Suddenly, there was a smile on her face. "Do you toy with me, darling? Surely you know better than to tempt a woman's wrath upon you," she remarked, head cocked to the side. "I know that the," she paused to search for a word, "... quality of women you frequent is somewhat lacking, but make no mistake. I am not them. You are much too fascinating to destroy, much too beautiful. How long will that last?," she whispered softly, seeking to lean in so that the whole of his vision was her features. The abyss of her gaze, the ruby of her lips against pale, glowing skin. The bright white teeth that scraped down her lower lip to draw his gaze. Toy with her, she had said. When it was her playing games with him. The two of them rarely spoke plainly - every conversation was a battle. Every word striving to gain the upper hand. "Perhaps I will carve that name into your hide, lest you forget it in your long absences," drawled lazily, batting long eyelashes at him. Another dig at him.

She leaned her head to the side, exposing pale column of her neck as she thought on his words. "I suppose it might very well make things easier for you. Perhaps I shall hope for the same. Your relief, your mindlessness will make things much easier for me as well," she assured him. His doubt in his Lady's abilities made her lift one shoulder in a shrug. "Don't worry, my love, I have already staked claim on any ruin you may have. You have promised your marrow to me." She brought to mind their past conversation, seeking to lean forward to bring her tongue to the flat of his cheek. "You will like it. I will make you beg for mercy," she vowed. Her gaze did not veer away from his, something familiar there. Memory perhaps disquieting him. Such familiarity.

She blinked, protecting her eyes, when he tapped at her cheek. Reflex. Her own hand rose, seeking to cover his own upon the stem of his glass. To tip it towards her where his mouth's impression remained. The shadow of his mouth upon hers. Taking a swallow, if he allowed. It was intimate. Playful. Her smile was like the flame he so feared. She would release his hand, should she manage to claim it, however briefly. "What will I be forced to swallow, to be in her employ, hm? Tell me, will I be working closely under you, darling?," the faux innocence she leveled upon him in the wake of such suggestive comments was designed to inflame.

[Glenn]

He had experience with her. He had experience with Pantha. He had experience with others, some human, some not. There were similarities and there were severe differences. His first few encounters with the possessing force, he had been a hungry thing, craving information, narrative but nor necessarily understanding. He did not always need the context the underlying linkages. Later on he had been more passive still. He had not looked nearly as closely as he ought to have. Now, though? Now there was little choice. "Perhaps I look to do what i cannot. Perhaps I need your wrath for that." It was a riddle, a possibility at most. Did he mean it about him, about her, about Rhaena, about something else? Did he say it assuming that she'd think it a certain way? Did she know that?

It was a game between them and it was the sort of game that no one else could play with her. Wynsee was too serious. Niall did not have the depth or the willingness, except for in the most bitter of momentary ways. Who else was there? "Well, if she ever does make me mindless, you can enter this body and do whatever you wish to it. A fair deal, no? Suck out my marrow with my own tongue. Then we all win." She was loud and brash, forward. Clumsy in some ways. No, it was that familiarity that was truly unsettling. That, more than anything else, was the unsettling thing about her. If it was fabricated than she was good for not much moved him in that specific way.

So she put him of and he, with his little tap of her cheek did the same. That was worth her little trick with the wineglass a moment later. He was less put off by the proximity when she was like this. "You would work in the shadows. You would only ever deal through me, both with tasks and rewards. You would not have to deal with Olwak unless you wanted to. Noura wouldn't know a thing. She would be a creature of daylight. You would be the thing unveiled under the moon."

[Guppy]

Experience did not necessarily mean that things would be easier. This creature, however familiar she was to him, however taken she appeared with him, was dangerous. The risks and the benefits did not align. She had not shown him any great power, but she hinted at it time and again. That either meant that she was comfortable enough not to show off or she was playing at things she did not possess. Either way, she was clever. Intelligence to match his own lingered in her darkened eyes. Curled upon her lips knowingly. "Oh, there are many things that you can not do that I can. Do you just someone to scratch your back, darling? I could do that," she offered, without any eagerness displayed. Explaining her abilities, matter-of-factly. She was no eager pupil, no ardent student. "Or, should you vex me, I can skin you alive and make boots out of you," she added with that smile. The one that stoked men into temper or ardor.

He did not seem to be unnerved by her proximity, so she moved to lean in to nuzzle at his cheek. Then, another step closer so that her lips were ghosting against his ear. Again, only if he did not protest. Cheek to cheek in the moonlight, should he allow. If he stepped away from her, she would not follow, but he would have to see the victory in her expression. All she did, she did to fluster him. Check and checkmate in every word. "Now, where would the fun in that be, dear? You are the only decent conversationalist in the whole of Myrken, I'm quickly finding," she whispered. Her voice was like silk against his senses. Part throaty purr, part capricious amusement. At least she admitted the truth. She enjoyed this, as much as he struggled to infuriate her. That was likely part of it - that he dared to standing toe to toe with her, that he dared to give a monster like her sweet nothings. She seemed to have noticed that he recognized her. Finally. Finally. Her expression was positively giddy when she leaned back to watch him with half-lidded gaze and slow, hungry smile. "Don't think too hard on it. I just have one of those faces, you know."

She shrugged, looking bored, when he told her that she would work in the shadows. "So what else is new?," she drawled. Eyes blinked and widened as he uttered that second phrase, mock-scandal upon her features. A hand lifted to place over a mouth set in an 'o' of surprise. "Oh my. And just what rewards may I expect, Master Inquisitor?," she questioned, the amusement back upon her features. She was his serpent, offering him the apple. "And will the noble Lady know the demon that she employs? Will she know each victim, or is it you that holds my leash?," she asked, eyes shining. "And what of her earnest Knight and his attachment to the whelp?" Storm clouds gathered upon her brow. The affection for her charge was not pleasing. Marriage and children.