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Within the Asylum, Silverthorn's darker side emerges...




The taste of blood, iron-rich and slightly salty, flooded Silverthorn's mouth as her teeth sliced into Mira's throat. Fingers tightened, holding the dragon-elf in place as the crimson liquid stained her lips and trickled down her throat. The vampire growled faintly.

Mira's fingers twisted in masses of raven black hair, a colour so very much like her own and rather than pry her away, the dragon-elf jerked Silverthorn's head to her throat.

"You've never fed on one of our kind." Mira hissed softly, "Drink your fill..." jade eyes sparked even brighter as the dull pain of being bled out gnawed at the blessed numbness the Rage offered her, "your kind cannot drain one of my race."

The black spike was brought to bear and pressed to Silverthorn's temple, its point sinking slowly into the thin flesh there, "But I do think you'll this meal a tad expensive."

A low laugh washed across the dragon-elf's skin. "The more expensive the meal, the more enticing it becomes. Don't you think?" the Gangrel-elf whispered in a tone that was almost sultry. The nail of one finger ran up and down Mira's nape in an oddly sensual gesture. "If you're going to kill me, why then..." She smiled, "kill me please."

Just for a second as the sentence ended the crimson and black fires that burned in her eyes died and the gaze was clear jade.

"This is awesome, just totally cool. Oh man, just WAIT till I tell the guys about this..." Bob was hurrying through the hallways, rattling away, "So, what is the deal here? I mean, I've not seen a film crew, a makeup trailer, nothing. Is this...this is like Punk'd, isn't it?" He paused and noted the blank look on the pairs' faces, "You know, that show with Ashton Kutcher? Punk'd...Well, you may not," He looked at Orlando, "you're from the U.K....do you guys even have MTV there?"

Off he went again, and several yards later, paused outside the door where he'd left the women, "Hang on, I've got the..." He began fishing around in his pocket, then looked up, "You know, they must be on break, cause, its sure quiet in there..." Bob went back to fishing around, "Oh shit...I must have left it in the room..."

"You mean we can't get in?" Bran demanded, barely restraining an urge to throttle the unfortunate man. The fair-haired elf banged on the door with a fist. "Mira? Mira, are you in there?"

"Oh yes...I'm in here...Nasse as well...though, I suspect we're not the entire sum total. You WERE going to tell me at some point she was Saag'nii, yes?" Mira's light comments were laced with pain and anger, despite her best efforts to not alarm her husband.

"And, while I don't mind being an afternoon snack, I would much prefer it was you sucking on my throat, Vershan."

Bob nearly flinched and ginned sheepishly, "Ah. Yes...no...I mean, yeah," He nodded his head, a motion that became a negative, slow shake, "No. No I can't. Not without the key. But hey! I mean, I can get the key from Dr. Robinson, hang on, I'll just let him know we're locked out, and he can come down here and let us in."

Bob's reasoning was that if they were shooting a movie, then the doctor knew they were here, and if he new they were here, surely he'd be more than helpful...the man turned on his heel and bumped right into Bran.

"You know, you're taller in person that I expected. Broader chest too. You know, Troy really didn't do you justice on the abs and biceps."

"Saag'nii? What the hell's a... hang on... vampire?" Bran's words had more than a hint of disbelief. "How the hell can my sister be a vampire?" The fair-haired elf was barely aware that he'd spoken the last words aloud.

Rounding on his brother-in-law, jade eyes narrowed. "Okay. Explanation right now. You kept trying to avoid this. Now you can't. What the hell is going on?"

“I’d really love to humour you,” Ro answered as he rattled the door handle, “but it isn’t the top item on my agenda right now. ARIANNE!”

The King of S’Hea had never been the most patient of people, especially when it came to someone he loved. His wife was on the other side of the door… that was the only thought that was important to Y’Roden at the moment.

“Damn electronics,” he snarled, a ball of electric Aethyr crackling in his palm. “I hate Terra… I really do.” The magic hit the door with a sizzling crack and it jolted on its hinges. It held for a moment, then the components within the lock shorted out and it swung inwards.

“MIRA NO!” Bob and Bran were both bowled to the side as the heavy chestnut haired elf barrelled into the room. His momentum took out both women and the trio sprawled in all directions, Ro coming very close to taking a spike through the head in the process.

“Holy Hells! What are you two doing?” His grip was on Silverthorn, wrenching his wife around to face him.

The dark-haired woman hissed for a second, furious at being balked of her prey. The crimson and black flames in her jade gaze burned even hotter. Licking up a stray drop of blood, the vampire purred, "what does it look like, sweetheart? We were just getting... better acquainted."

Ro’s eyes flared wide for a moment, then settled into a calm expression that he really wasn’t feeling on the inside. “Honey,” he managed, “It is really bad manners to feed on the in-laws, and frankly, I’m feeling a little jealous.” His grip had grown tighter, his demeanour weary, aware that this was the flipside of his wife, not Arianne herself. The S’Hean had a great deal of experience with this type of thing… on a very personal level.

"Oh yes..." The black spike vanished beneath her flesh, "Bad manners...though," Mira shoved Silverthorn violently away from her in the brief second she was distracted, "that all depends on the family you marry into, now doesn't it?"

In one graceful move, Mira rolled to a crouch, "In my family, this is all fun and games." Her voice was a purring, husky alto, "Care for one more go of it before we're tackled?"

"I'd love to" the Gangrel-elf replied, driving her elbow suddenly into Y'Roden's abdomen and wrenching herself free, unheeding of the cuts and bruises that already marred her slim frame. Dropped in a low crouch, her raven hair flowing down her back, naked skin blood-stained and eyes blazing with insanity, she might almost have been a demon from the abyss.

"Mira, don't!" Bran exclaimed, catching hold of his wife's shoulder. "She isn't herself for Gods sake. You must be able to see that."

"In that you're wrong" Silverthorn purred, "I have never been more myself" and with a sudden movement she launched herself at the dragon-elf.

A loud grunting snarl was all Bran received, Mira's Rage had carried her under, the coin of her blood flipping wildly to the Black side of her heritage. She jerked free of Bran's fingers and let her soul slide open to reveal not the usual landscape of equal parts elven jade, silver, black and verdant green, but a roiling pit of endless, velvety night. This was what she knew she was, this was what she'd fought for centuries, and for the first time since she'd had the blessed good fortune to meet Brandubh Badb Catha, Mira released her hold on the Silver.

Black wings flared as she too lunged forward, her fist suddenly covered in tarnished scale, a gauntlet of sorts, and drove it into Silverthorn's jaw.

All the air went out of Ro for a moment, leaving him shaking his head. The half-elf sometimes forgot his wife’s strength. Add to that the supernatural power of a Vampire… “Knock it off! Both of you! Gods! What the hell is it with Blackthorn’s and making situations worse?” the S’Hean snarled as he staggered to his feet, just in time to catch Silverthorn on the rebound as she took a hit to the jaw.

One heavily muscled arm snaked around his wife’s waist and Ro whirled round, slamming her against the wall and holding her there with his body weight. “Do something Badb Catha, before I do!” Emerald tendrils lashed out, winding into the dark tendrils that presently dominated Arianne’s soul and searching out the more familiar silver that seemed lost beneath the tide.

Vesse?

"I'm trying" Bran bit out, grabbing his wife around the waist and hauling her backwards. "Mira. Vanima. For Gods sake..." Verdant green and steel strands embraced the velvety night that her soul. "Vanima... melda..."

Silverthorn let out a howl of outraged fury, writhing beneath the S'Hean King's weight as she tried to force him off her. Hands braced themselves against the cold stone wall as she pushed back against him, pinned by his greater bulk and the awkward angle.

For a second she went limp, cobweb-like tendrils of silver reaching out for emerald. "Melda? Oh Gods! I'm sorry..." Then the full horror hit her, "Let her kill me. Please..."

Black mist swirled in, swamping the silver and lashing out at the green invaders with fiery rage. "No! This body is mine now, and you'll never get her back." Like a spitting cat, the vampire twisted in the half-elf's embrace and dragged ragged nails across his face.

A bare squeak is all anyone heard from Bob...he'd did his best to make himself...small...near the doorway.

"Soooo...we're not doing a movie...are we? You...you guys want the tranquiliser guns now? I think...yeah, I DO have the key for...Oohhhh, that...ow..."

Mira's head had slammed back in her thrashing struggles, and hammered right into Bran's nose and mouth.

"Let me go! GODS! Let me go!" Mira kicked out behind her, the blow aimed for Bran's knee cap.

As for Bob, he was inching around the perimeter of the room to a locked, steel door. Seconds stretched to hours for him as he slid a second pass key in the slot, yanked open the door and pulled out two hypoguns.

"So, a doctor walks into a church..." Bob was doing his best to remember the joke and keep his fingers working, "right? And he's not Catholic..." he continued on until he got the guns loaded with mild tranquillisers, and turned, one in each hand, to deliver the punch line,

"Oh to Hell with it..."

"Anyone up for cocktails?"

Y’Roden’s eyes flashed, not with anger, not with pain, but with pure animalistic lust that for a moment, he almost lost his grip on. Pain was a trigger, and if love hadn’t been in the equation it wouldn’t have mattered that Mira and Bran were still in the room. Feral urges were beaten down, the deeper need to have his Wife back stronger then them all.

There was a wild grin on his face though, when he met the Vampire’s gaze.

“Oh… I beg to differ… and either way, it’ll be a terrible bit of fun dredging her up out of you.” His body pressed harder against Thorn’s, “You want to play… we’ll play.” A backlight of crimson leapt up in the S’Hean’s eyes… much longer, and Bob was going to need more than a tranquilliser gun.

Arianne… listen to me… I need you, you’ve got to come out now… before I lose us both.

"Ro?"


The word was little more than a whisper across his mind, all but drowned out in the screaming fury that was the Gangrel. Deep in the recesses of her mind Silverthorn was drowning in the morass of nightmare and reality, past and present. Only the love she bore for her husband gave her the strength even for that brief touch upon his soul.

"I... I don't think I can... So tired..."

"Stop that!" the vampire spat, clawing at Y'Roden's face at the same time as she drove a knee hard into his groin. A malicious smile curved her lips. "Think it's fun to play now, do you? Then, sure. Let's play."

Her teeth sank into the curve where his shoulder met his throat, deliberately tearing and rending.

Bran's breath escaped in a hiss of pain and he swung his wife up into the air, hauling her feet off the ground. "Mira! Mira, stop it. It's me. It's Bran."

A low rumbling growl started in the depths of Y’Roden’s chest and crimson kissed emerald greens rolled back into his head, pain translating to sheer ecstasy in the half-elf’s twisted mindset. A low groan had him slumping against Silverthorn, pressing into sharp fangs with rousing delight that threatened to unleash something hellish for them both. A sharp protrusion of bone coloured horn burst through his flesh at the temple, a rivulet of blood seeping down the side of Ro’s face to mingle with the bloody mess the Vampire was making of his neck.

Within, he slid past the Gangrel, seeking deeper, igniting the silver flame at the centre of his wife’s soul. You can. Hold on to me, we can do this together. Don’t leave me, you slip… I slip… The roar of conjoined heartbeats drowned out the other couple in the background, the steady beat that joined them, connected their lifelines. A pounding rhythm that was threatening to slow.

“Keep drinking,” he gasped out, “don’t stop… if you don’t give her back… you fade into oblivion with me.” Hard fingers twisted into raven dark hair, forcing her teeth deeper into his flesh. “I won’t leave without her… I won’t live without her… do you know what that means?”

"She is nothing without me" the Gangrel snarled, her head rearing back into his hand as the internal battle sent crimson waves of agony pounding through Silverthorn's skull. As the vampire grew more dominant the outward changes in the dark-haired elf's appearance grew more marked. The skin over the bones of her face seemed to bleach and thin, stretching tight over angular cheekbones and hollowing beneath jade orbs. Fangs lengthened.

A scream ripped from her throat.

All the time the beating of their heart grew louder and louder in her ears... and slower and slower.

“I think you have that confused,” Ro ground out, “you are fading even now… we die, you die.” Yanking her head back the half-elf gazed down into his wife’s eyes before leaning in to kiss her. The conduit within his soul swirled open, drawing tendrils of silver in its wake and magnifying the bond between them till it drowned out all else in a symphony of strength and love that emanated from his core.

It was either salvation or damnation… it was up to Arianne to chose. Hold on and live, let go… and they would both die.

Like a drowning swimming clinging to a lifeline, Silverthorn's soul reached out towards his. The Gangrel screamed and fought, bringing scenes of pain and horror to the fore of her mind that made the elf cry out, the sound muffled against his lips. Over and over again the feel of the blade slicing into her wrists played in her brain. Over and over again she felt the warmth of the blood spilling over her skin.

Tearing her mouth away, the vampire hissed in his ear, "you want to save her? how ironic. Do you want to know what gave me the opportunity to escape my cage?" A malicious smile curved her lips.

"You."

"I really must ask that you cease manhandling my patients, gentlemen" a cool voice inserted into the chaos. Doctor Robinson surveyed the cell dispassionately.

"Sir, we've found the escapee" another male voice added. Two security guards dragged a familiar brunette kicking and swearing into the room, her sword now held securely in one man's hand.

"Let me go you bastards" Linnis was indeed swearing as she was dragged unceremoniously into the room. Between them the two burly security guards held her firmly in place, her arms held at her back. "What the hell's going on?" she asked, surprise crossing her face as she took in the state of her extended family. Blue eyes widened as they came to rest upon the naked, bloody form of her mother. "Amil?"

Ro cast a glance over his shoulder at the Doctor and raised an eyebrow, his expression suddenly dead calm. He turned away for a moment, an unnerving smile curving the edges of his mouth as he regarded the vampire in his arms. “No… I really don’t think that was it at all,” he murmured, “I think… it was him.” He forced her head around to look at Robinson. “Now… things are going to get ugly. So… I’d prefer if you went to sleep now Vesse. Ok?”

A sharp blow across Silverthorn’s temple with the back of his hand had the dark haired elf slumping in his grip and he grimaced just a little before settling her down against the wall.

“You know,” he said without turning around, “I’ve always wanted to try this thing out… but never quite got the chance. Moderation, in all things though of course.” He turned with a fluid movement, dark metal glistening in his hand, the gift DragonGrin had given him so long ago. A squeeze of the trigger and a satisfying crack went off in the room, the bullet lodging in Dr. Robinson’s thigh.

The brown-haired man swore and braced himself against the wall. Blood seeped down his leg as her straightened slowly.

Ro’s head tilted to the side with a snap of bone as he regarded the other man with a cool expression. “You made me hit my wife…. I’m going to have to kill you for that. Slowly…of course. You strike me as the sort of man that enjoys a good torture session… let’s find out how you do on the other side of the fence. Shall we?”

A brow rose over clear blue eyes, "your wife? really? fascinating." The doctor regarded the half-elf like an interesting specimen. "In that case, perhaps you would be so good as to tell me more about her. The notes would be incredibly valuable for her file." He pulled out a notebook and looked up once more in an enquiring fashion. "Although why you would accuse me of torture I really don't know. I am merely a scientist."

"RO" Linnis almost screamed, "don't shoot him, I need him alive, he knows who my father is!" The brunette struggled vainly, but she couldn't seem to get out of the guard's vice-like grip. For her troubles they merely twisted her arms a little tighter causing to cry out in pain. She couldn't understand why the King of S'Hea bore such malice to the Doctor, but as she looked once more upon the now unconscious body of her mother, she began to get an inkling.

There were moments, in Y’Roden’s long life, where compassion and perhaps even the ability to feel were snuffed out like a dying flame. The gaze that met Linnis’ panicked blue eyes was ice cold, frosted emeralds that betrayed nothing.

“Is that what he told you?” Ro cocked the gun and eyed the dark haired woman, “I should shoot you too,” he said in a flat tone, “this is your fault Linnis. First you put my children in danger, and now… look what you’ve helped this Monster do to my wife. He knows who your father is?”

The line of sight swung back to the Doctor. “That is very funny.” Another shot took out Robinson’s wrist, splattering his notebook with blood. “He is your father Linnis. Does that satisfy your curiosity? Are you happy to know you are the spawn of this creature? The result of months of torture and brutal rape on a helpless, drugged and chained woman.”

The S’Hean King’s movements were almost casual as he crossed the room and seized the bleeding Doctor. “I’d start making out your Father’s Day cards now Linnis,” he said calmly, “we can bury him with them. Now… if you will all kindly get out of our way,” he gestured towards the table that was equipped with all sorts of nasty implements Ro was eager to try out, “I have an appointment with the good Doctor.”

"Let me go, dammit! Guards!" James Robinson struggled against the hard grip that held him so securely. "Bob! Why haven't you used those tranquillisers? You're fired after this. You hear me? Fired."

"Hell!" Bran shook his wife and spun her around to face him. "Mira? Mira, listen to me. I need your help. 'nasse needs your help. Look at her for Gods sake. Look at her properly." Now so many things that had puzzled him were starting to come together to make a horrible kind of sense, one that sickened him.

Mira's struggles had ceased long ago, but not her Rage. Deep, animalistic growl that had rattled in her chest slowly died when Bran turned her, "What...what do you want of me?" Her eyes flicked to Linnis and the growl began again...the focus of her Rage was shifting, and it had a great deal to do with the mention of Linnis' taking the children to Elemmiire.

The fair-haired elf sighed, relaxing slightly as his wife stopped fighting him. "Just help me with 'nasse. Please" he said, "I can't leave her like that." Releasing Mira, Bran's jade eyes flicked over towards his niece, "I'm not sure that she's worth it, melda" he commented, aware of the dragon-elf's fury. He could hardly blame her. When he remembered the scene in that clearing in the Tauremorna his own blood boiled. What sort of person would hand a young child over for ritual sacrifice?

As for Bob, he was gawking, wondering just what his life was coming to. This was nothing like the movies, the wild flights of fancy he'd had in his life...but reality?

Ahhh...reality.

"Fired?" Bob looked down at the tranquiliser guns, then back at the good Doctor.

"Well, okay. But before I go," Bob inched around and approached the Doctor, "Let me help you out here..." Brown eyes unapologetically went to the pistol waving lunatic called Y'Roden, his vampire wife, then to the hellcat of a woman called Mira and her pretty husband, "By the way...remember the insurance benefits I was supposed to get? The sign on bonus?"

Bob adjusted one hypogun with great deliberation, "You know, I'd like to get married...but, uh...with pay like this? I can't support a wife and kids." He nodded slowly and eyed his employer, "Fired? Fine with me. Actually, if you'd have checked your desk, you'd have my two-weeks notice." Bob handed Dr. Robinson the gun, "Now, if you'll all excuse me, I have job...a Dr. Rosewood hired me at twice the pay you give me, twice the benefits...and I have a ring to shop for."

Bob walked out the door, a smile on his face, but before he did he poked his head back in the door.

"You guys have fun. I never saw you, and Dr.? The rest of the guards seem to be on break...Union thing...but the gun there, I set it high enough you can either o.d. at the last minute, or it you're really...really...lucky? It MAY work on one of them...but, probably not."

The dark haired man saluted his former employer, winked at Y'Roden, and disappeared down the hallway, pausing as he went to swipe a card in a door...and effectively lock the guards out...when and if they ever did come off break.

"No, that can't be, you're lying" Linnis said to Ro, blue eyes wild. They flicked from Ro to the doctor and back. "Is this true, are you my father?" Linnis looked towards the table of unpleasant looking implements, "you can't do this" she snarled, "I won't let you do this" she cried stamping down hard on one of the Guard's feet, his momentary lapse in grip on her was all she needed.

An elbow came up, connecting with his face, and a sound of crunching bone. The Guard went down clutching his broken nose. The brunette picked up her sword that had now been dropped, clobbering the other man who still held her. He also went down to the floor, unconscious, blood pouring from his temple.

Now that she was free, the half-elf threw herself at Y'roden. "No, you can't do it, he's the only one who knows. You're lying!" she kept screaming at him, trying desperately to drag him away from Robinson. She couldn't let Ro kill the only person that might indeed tell her about her birthright

Green eyes bled crimson as Ro heaved heavily muscled shoulders and turned on Linnis, smartly backhanding her across the face with a blow that sent her careening into the wall.

“Touch me again… and I’ll not be responsible,” he growled, “don’t push me Linnis… you have no idea what you are dealing with.”

Turning back to the good Doctor he simply heaved Robinson up off his feet and slammed him down onto the table. “You all may want to wait outside,” the King’s tone was a little calmer, “unless, of course, you enjoy this sort of entertainment.”

Crossing the room, Bran dropped down on one knee beside Silverthorn. The fair-haired elf shook his head and swore under his breath as he saw the injuries on her naked form. Without a word he stripped off his shirt and lifted her, gently tugging the soft fabric over her head. Gods, there was so much blood he thought, not all of it hers, but still...

"You want to kill him" Bran said, looking up at his brother-in-law with cold eyes, "then fine. Go right ahead. I sure as hell won't stop you. Not for this. Just don't take too long about it. I'm not sure you'll have a wife to come back to if you do." In his arms, the dark-haired S'Hean Queen was ominously still and felt far too cold to the touch. "How hard did you hit her anyway?"

“Just enough to knock her out,” Ro muttered, “I know what I’m doing, she’ll be fine… If we can force the Vampire back where it belongs.” It was already happening, he knew. D’Riel blood in undead veins was a bane to the Clans. It had been An’Thaya’s blood that had been Galain’s salvation, and Y’Roden’s would be the same for Arianne. The Vampire had sealed her own fate the moment she had tasted of the S’Hean’s blood.

The sound of snapping metal echoed across the room as Ro calmly cuffed the Doctor to the table and tossed the tranquilliser gun on the floor.

“You won’t be needing that. Ooooh, look, a scalpel. This brings back memories. Hold still now, I’m just a Scientist today after all… and I’m dying to see what is on the inside of a human. Oh wait, no, that’s you that will be dying.” Humming softly he dug the tip of the blade into Robinson’s flesh, just at the solar plexus, and slowly started carving down towards his groin. “Nothing like the smell of blood to get the old juices firing,” he said with a tad too much gusto.

"If. That's a big if," Bran muttered under his breath, ignoring the screams that began to rise from the other side of the room as Doctor Robinson found himself on the receiving end of his own treatment. "Gods, 'nasse. Why the hell didn't you say something?" The fair-haired elf couldn't help feeling a little hurt that yet again his sister hadn't been able to talk to him, and to wonder if somehow that was his fault.

Mira's fingers slid across Bran's shoulder. The screams behind her and the scent of fresh blood meant nothing to her...it was easy, during times like this, to remember the Dragon-elf had been raised just one generation shy of thinking of Humans as cattle.

Just one more item to stuff an apple into and put on the table, trussed in twine and smothered in onions...

Mira's stomach gave an undignified growl, "After this, we're going out to eat," she muttered and lowered to a crouch next to Bran. She was ignoring Linnis entirely. She'd not liked the fool woman from their first meeting so long ago, and Bran was right. She wasn't worth it.

“Let’s just get rid of this bit,” came from Ro’s side of the room, “you won’t be needing any assault weapons… which is the only thing you seem to be able to use it for.” The screams were a little higher in pitch after that, at which point the half-elf seemed to be amusing himself by breaking ribs, creating a twisted symphony with the Doctor’s tortured howls.

Linnis' head rose, blue eyes blazing, with an almost animalistic snarl she launched herself at Y'Roden, clinging to his back. Linnis didn't like being hit, by men least of all. It brought back too painful memories, but also the anger that came so easily to her these days. Lithe legs wrapped around his wide frame to give her purchase, while fingers began to claw at his face, nails digging in to his flesh. "Stop this you bastard" she snarled.

Someone obviously hadn’t explained to Linnis that Ro was actually goaded on by pain. Although, she was interfering with his entertainment at the moment and that just wouldn’t do.

With all the casualness in the world the half-elf bent over, picked up the tranquilliser gun, shoved it around and into Linnis’ side and pulled the trigger. “Bloody little banshee,” he muttered, shrugging her off as the drugs took effect, “shut up and take a back seat will you?”

Linnis fell to the floor with an 'oof' more surprise then anything else. She pulled the feather tipped dart out of her side, examining it with increasingly groggy eyes. It was having an effect on the human side of her genetics. The brunette still tried to stop the King of S'Hea, pulling at his leg, but with no effect.

"Well." Mira beamed at Bran, "Looks like the experimentation on your wife paid off. The tranquilliser worked this time." The dragon-elf beamed at her husband, then turned her eyes back to Silverthorn.

"I know you don't find this amusing now, Vershan, but, I really LIKE Silverthorn. Its a good thing I met you first, and she met Y'Roden..." Mira paused, "I'll just stop now."

The monkey off his back, so to speak, Y’Roden went back to what he had been doing. He desperately wanted to draw this out, to make Robinson suffer as Silverthorn had been made to. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the time. His wife was more important than the need for revenge, no matter how strong.

“Whoops… I KNOW that particular organ doesn’t go there,” he said brightly, “sorry about that. You know… I think this would look much better over here, don’t you think? I’m sorry, did that hurt?” There was a bubbly gurgle from the table and the half-elf sighed. “Humans… so bloody fragile. No appreciation for pain at all. Anyone have a watch? I’m calling time of death at… eh, never mind.”

Wiping his hands off on the Doctor’s coat Ro tossed it aside and crouched next to Bran and Thorn. “I’ll take her from here. I think getting her behind the S’Hean wards is the best thing I can do right now. Sliding massive hands beneath his wife’s body Ro lifted her up easily and rose to his feet. “You two ready to go or are you becoming fond of this place?”

"Ooohhh, I don't know." Mira's jade eyes scanned the room, settled on the blood smears and splatters of gore, then the pile of assorted innards scattered here and there, "It has a cosy, almost home, feel to it, but, y'know. I'm kinda tired of staring at four walls made out of painted cinder block and wearing a straight jacket."

It was possible Mira was still feeling the effects of one too many tranquillisers, highly likely actually.

"Though..." She pulled Bran to his feet and squeezed his rear the minute Y'Roden turned his back on the pair and headed for the door, "I'm keeping at least one straight jacket. Dyed black and trimmed in leather, I'd say it would be pretty fun..."

Mira paused again and looked at Bran, "Drugs. Lots and lots of drugs, love. Really...I'll be fine. Maybe...can you stand to live with me until then?"

She was wondering if some of that mythical truth serum had been mixed with the blend she'd been injected with more times than she could count.

Probably.

"And what about her?" Mira nudged Linnis' limp form with the toe of one boot, "I vote we leave her here, a few decades in Rikers won't hurt her...Uhm...I don't mean Ghet's place. I mean the prison. Ghet's place would definitely warp her."