"So many. We're all little Ratattas, aren't we? Scurrying around in cages." Her hands dance with the metaphor, imitating the shuffling of paws as she laughs again, miserable.[break][break]

He is far more lucid than her, here: clear-eyed and aware of numbers as an advantage. To her, that discovery is more despairing proof of their own futility. If even Zev Harcourt can be caged, then what hope is there?[break][break]

She leans against the glass building, letting her eyes close as she stretches. There's an indolence to her movements; a captured creature cares little for the dignity of her reputation, only for her own comfort.[break][break]

"What is your grand plan, then?" she asks casually, no faith to be found in her question -- only a tired amusement. "Men like you always have grand plans."

[attr="class","ooc"] Cillian Quinn [break][break]

Prismatic Penitentiary: Ugly Ward

[attr="class","pkmn"]

"Haah. Their spirits, hm?" This laugh is softer, a fluttering sound of exhaustion and resignation. "You'll have better luck asking our captors to free us, I should think."[break][break]

Of course she wants to escape like him. She doesn't dare delude herself though that this is a guaranteed or even achievable possibility; that way lies madness, she tells herself, though she remains unaware of how closely she toes that line now. If she hopes, then she becomes a slave to that hope, and then she can be controlled with her despair, can't she?[break][break]

All things cycle -- and cycle, and cycle, like an unending loop doomed to forever repeat again.[break][break]

"But you're right. The League is shuttered up here as much as we are." She grimaces, unsure how much pleasure there is to be taken in this observation. "Councilmen, Gym Leaders, Elite Four." Then she chuckles, amused at herself, before she amends, "Well, Elite Two, I should say."[break][break]

She'll take what small victories she can, she supposes.[break][break]

"freya morningstar asked us to work together to escape, you know. She threatened me, too, in case I planned to get in her way. What a strange world we find ourselves in now."[break][break]

At the mention of Azelf, she simply nods, pointing towards the central tower of the city. She says nothing.[break][break]

He must know as well as she does what lies within its glittering spire.

[attr="class","ooc"] Cillian Quinn [break][break]

Prismatic Penitentiary: Ugly Ward

[attr="class","pkmn"]

"Though one wonders," she almost purrs, "whether the weaver of this dreamscape is of a benevolent mind or no."[break][break]

Her head cants slightly towards him, a silent laugh shaking her shoulders. The light has left her emerald eyes.[break][break]

"I've always found dreams to be torturous things."[break][break]

Though perhaps he is right. Perhaps they can find the threads of this glittering dream and spin them into something that breathes freedom into their reality.[break][break]

And perhaps the world might be kinder, and perhaps she might be unburdened, and perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...[break][break]

What a useless exercise it is, to wonder at what might never be.[break][break]

"I will not get in your way either. Either of you," she adds, so that he does not mistake her meaning. "Any attempt at escape is welcome, so long as the likelihood of failure is not greater than the risk of reward."[break][break]

If he is to act foolishly, she is not above throwing others before their captors so that she may be spared their rod another day -- much as she threatened Navy, mere days before now.

[attr="class","ooc"] Cillian Quinn [break][break]

Prismatic Penitentiary: Ugly Ward

[attr="class","pkmn"]

Does she enjoy the suffering of others? She gives it careful thought, discovering she finds validation in it. Yes, it affirms her that misery spares neither the innocent nor the guilty, the powerless nor the empowered.[break][break]

Anyone -- even the most shining beacon of goodness, or the cruelest and most fearsome being -- can be crushed under fate's unjust heel.[break][break]

"Suffering is honest," she finally says, shrugging, "while the promise of a utopian dream is not."[break][break]

Witnessing the false cheer and happiness of others holds no hope or wonder for her. The unfed void within her merely writhes with hunger for that impossibility, churning with jealousy and spite.[break][break]

Her hand absently brushes against her face, marveling at the touch of skin that will be denied to her upon waking. She already mourns it, and already hates this dream for reminding her of the taste of freedom. Is this not another torture? Is this not another punishment to endure, in its own way?[break][break]

"Our cells contain as many rats. I don't speak to the one in mine. I suspect Remiel Calcifet doesn't grant you the same courtesy."[break][break]

She gives him a conspiratorial smile, and for once, there's a flicker of a friendship-that-once-was: reanimated by a dream, warm and ephemeral as sunshine on a spring morning.[break][break]

"Galarian royals are known for neither sense nor brevity."

[attr="class","ooc"] Cillian Quinn [break][break]

Prismatic Penitentiary: Ugly Ward

[attr="class","pkmn"]

"To each their own," is her nonchalant reply. In this, they differ: killing proves more difficult a task for her than torment. Death has too much finality, and leaves too much wanting in its wake.[break][break]

It's why she doesn't name her cellmate. She knows Cillian's stance is that of the guillotine, and not the death of a thousand mist-laden whispers. His method is clean, efficient, and without mess.[break][break]

She's never been any of those things.[break][break]

"Our ward has several I recognize. Zev Harcourt, impossibly. Underboss THEO BECKETT. I believe fern delaney and jayden cross as well, though I see them only at a distance." Her voice softens, tender in a way she shouldn't remember how to be: "And Admin Bee, too."[break][break]

Her arms wrap around herself after mentioning BARNABY FINCH aloud, distressed as her face twists and contorts with an emotion she won't acknowledge. This, more than her jest from before, cracks through her outer layer of spite. There's fear visible here, and anger too, boiling to the surface.[break][break]

"We have problems like Navy," she snarls suddenly, "who's willing to sacrifice us all if it serves his ideals. Fools like John Sullivan would let him, even. Thank Arceus we outnumber them."[break][break]

This is more than self-preservation. This is a protective instinct, something that never once belonged to Wo-chien. Only to her, and only for one other person.[break][break]

THEO BECKETT has already unearthed this vulnerability from her. It would not be difficult for Cillian Quinn to do the same.

[attr="class","ooc"] Cillian Quinn [break][break]

Prismatic Penitentiary: Ugly Ward

[attr="class","pkmn"]

"What's the point of it then?" she hears herself complain, slumping against the glass building. "If a man like that can be rendered so small and helpless, what's the point of all this power?"[break][break]

It's not a question that has an answer. It's just a question she hates having to ask at all.[break][break]

She's been humiliated in other ways. He's not seen how eagerly she prostrated herself before their captors, how frantically her hands scrubbed sharp jewels raw. Whatever fate she's been spared, she's earned honestly, though time will strip her of that too.[break][break]

Power had been meant to protect her against this belittling means of survival. Stooping to it again is so demeaning that she can hardly abide to look at her own reflection anymore.[break][break]

"They told us to pick someone to be punished. Anyone other than us." Her eyes are hollow. She has no remorse for her actions, no more than a Seviper mourns biting the ankle of a human who stepped too near. "I recognized Isaac Merlo, and so I chose him to suffer."[break][break]

She shrugs again, and the expression in her face shifts again, turning jaded in its cruelty.[break][break]

"Navy said we should suffer instead of the others. That we should all nobly be martyrs, as if that would save us." A snort of derision, and then a biting laugh. "People like this don't reward mercy. If we didn't play their game, they'd make everyone lose. We'd all suffer, instead of anyone being spared."[break][break]

It doesn't occur to her he might disagree. This seems so blindingly obvious to her, she doesn't expect a man as reasonable as him might retort otherwise.

[attr="class","ooc"] Cillian Quinn [break][break]

Prismatic Penitentiary: Ugly Ward

[attr="class","pkmn"]