daybreakacademy | The Lure of Bitter Revenge

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The Lure of Bitter Revenge

WHO: Orihime Inoue, Tatsumaki, Imelda Rivera, Hector Rivera, Peter Parker
WHAT: Orihime and Tatsumaki go on patrol trying to find Sora or the monster that turned him into a hollow. Unfortunately, they succeed, just as Grand Fisher planned.
WHEN: February 9th, 2019 - Evening
WHERE: Woods between Daybreak Academy and Soleil

Ever since receiving the bitter news about her brother's transformation, Orihime and Tatsumaki had been diligently searching the school grounds for signs of him, or the creature that forced his transformation. She was certain Sora was responsible for all of the accidents she'd survived. It left a nasty chill in her gut to think that her own brother was the one holding her down under the water, or pushing her down the stairs, or throwing a tuba...

...Actually that one was probably just a crazy accident, but even so, it was eerie. What was more, it seemed like he could kill her pretty easily if he truly wanted to do it. But with all of these accidents, it made her wonder...was there some small part of him trying to hold back? It gave her hope. And hope instilled her with determination.

Since searching the grounds had turned up nothing, she had to consider the possibility that the creatures were less eager to move about a place that was well guarded and filled with students and teachers that could fight back without hesitation. So they decided to try the woods.

She glanced at Tatsumaki as they walked together through the dark and snow-drenched trees, and the sight of her friend's serious face made her smile. They'd been through a lot together over the years, and as much as it made Orihime uneasy to ask anyone to risk their lives to save someone who'd lost his long ago, she was honestly really glad to have Tatsumaki with her.

And Hector, of course. He knew what her brother now looked like, and being able to easily see the dead, he might spot Sora if she couldn't. Of course, now that Sora was a Hollow, she wondered if that would be enough to finally make him visible to her eyes. She didn't know, and it was better to be safe about something like this.

Something pricked at her spiritual senses just before she heard a scared whistle, playing the same note. Three staccato shrills. Three long whistles. Then three more short ones. The signal for an S.O.S.?

Orihime drew up short, her body tense. She hadn't heard that whistle for a couple of nights now, and her heart almost burst with sheer relief. It was Peter's ghost twin! She'd been so worried when he disappeared, but he was calling out for help. Thank goodness he was okay!

Before she'd gone two steps in the direction of the call, however, she hung back. The spiritual signature of his presence was wrong. In fact, there was nothing familiar about it at all. It felt oily and rotten, much like Ginshu's presence had felt, and just like Uncle Ben's when he'd been a monster. Orihime frowned, her pulse quickening. They'd found one.

She shot a quick look at Tatsumaki and nodded once, thinking loudly. It knows I'm here. You can fly up and flank it while I have its attention. Then she looked at Hector and made a motion like she was punching numbers on an open cell phone. She'd promised Peter she wouldn't leave him out if they actually found something; she just hoped he was rested enough for what was to come. Once it seemed like they were prepared, she took a breath to steady herself...then ran forward.

"Ghost Monsieur! Is that you? Where are you?!"

It wasn't him. She knew it wasn't, but it was important to run recklessly and pretend to be suckered into the trap so she could strike first. Even so, there was still a small swell of hope inside of her that she'd find her ghostly friend alive(ish) and well.

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It had been a last minute attempt to convince her into letting him along, telling her that he might be able to see her brother if she can't, or at least recognize it's him if she could. It wasn't that he wanted to be here, but he knew he wasn't ever going to convince Orihime out of this. And, at the end of the day, she was right; this had to be dealt with. Trying to do this together at least gave Sora a chance.

By that evening, Ekkehardt had managed to piece his arm back together. To not only have it whole and back into its socket, but to be able to abandon this exhausting half form, finally, is a weighty relief. He's still worn, but his face already looks a bit more alive, and while his arm still faintly buzzes with those days of brokenness and disconnect, it is connected now and he finds he can still use it.

He'd gathered a crowbar soon after that and hooked it in his belt. Then, was that explosive thing that Ben had somehow gathered, left out around where they'd last faced that monster only a week ago. He'd hesitated, but it didn't burn his hand or anything to touch it like he thought it might-- not an undead repellent on the outside after all, but still something that could hurt that thing. Not a violent man but perhaps it was time to learn how to fight back.

The forest is eerie and while he's become accustomed to only ever seeing things in the dark, knowing what's out here brings it right back to primordial fear. He starts in alarm at the S.O.S call, but Orihime lights up. He's not sure that's a good thing. Her face soon reveals that it isn't. But they keep going and when she mimes for him to text peter, he nods seriously and immediately tugs out his phone, swapping the blaster into his jacket's inner pocket. It takes all his willpower to keep to his phone and not run after Orihime, but he manages.

Peter, it's Héctor. I'm with Orihime and her friend, Tatsumaki. We've found the monster, or one of them. If you're not healed, please stay where you are. If you are, which means you're going to come no matter what I say, please don't go alone or without letting anyone know. Remember it's targeting you. We have to stay alert. I hope I will see you when this is over. Take care, mijo.

"If you're not healed," as if he would pay the slightest attention to that caveat. Fortunately for everyone involved, though, after a week of rest Peter is right back up to his usual energetic self. Including all of his feverish work on the runes that had taken down Fisher the first time. When the text comes in, he immediately starts stuffing all of his notes and tools into a backpack, as well as the preliminary runes he'd been able to manufacture.

It's time to go. And maybe - maybe this time they can put an end to this for good.

I'm coming. You can't stop me.

Which is frankly kind of ominous so - after a moment, he sends another text.

I'm fine tho, I rested all week. Also it's not targeting me, we already know it's not, so can you please stop saying that, its creepy

There, that's more of a normal text from him. That leaves him with all of his stuff put together, ready to go ...

He hesitates a moment more though. Quite frankly he's not confident in his own rune abilities here. If he screws this up, this could be bad. But who else can help? Who else is magically powerful, has already faced one of these things, and would have good reason to care about Héctor?

... Oh. Oh boy. He really, really hates to do this, but if it's just his own pride at stake he'll take it okay. Peter reluctantly shoulders his backpack and rushes back to Lumiére to go knock on Imelda's door.

Edited 2019-02-09 14:51 (UTC)

Peter is fortunate that Imelda happens to be in her room on this particular evening. She answers the door and seems immediately surprised to see that it's him--usually she doesn't know he's in Lumière until he's already neck deep in trouble. Which is why her gaze immediately flickers around the hall... Nothing appears to be on fire. So far.

"I wasn't expecting you. Is everything okay?"

Well. Technically he's already neck deep in trouble? Just not. Quite setting things on fire yet no. He definitely looks more alarmed and unhappy than guilty, which is a start.

He shakes his head, hard. "Orihime and Héctor need help," he says. "You know all those undead monsters? They're going after the thing that's making them."

And Imelda knows why that's dangerous to Héctor in particular. He hitches his backpack further up on his shoulders, casting his gaze down for a moment. "I know you're mad at him. And I know you're mad at me but - " He swallows a bit. "I know how to beat it, but I can't cast the spells I need to do it. Please."

That last word comes out as a soft plea.

Whatever she expects Peter to say, it isn't that. None of that, from the need for help to the plan to go after the thing making the undead monsters to Peter saying he has a way to beat it. There's surprise in her expression--and maybe a little fear, before it's covered over with her furrowing her brow and settling her jaw. He barely every finishes before Imelda is turning away from the door and grabbing her shoes.

"That man is an idiot, I swear," she fumes under her breath, but the anger in her tone doesn't quite match the urgency with which she's pulling those shoes on. "I don't know what possessed him to think he should be tackling something like that. He doesn't know the first thing about magic--" She clicks her tongue sharply, and Pepita comes running to hop onto her lap. In one fluid motion, she stands and scoops the cat into her arm.

"Where are we going? And what do you need?"

Good. She's coming, then, and that's the most important part. He should have looked askance at the cat under her arm, but he has since been informed about Pepita's alternate state okay.

Now that he knows he doesn't have to beg her to come along, Peter calms down a bit. For all he's a dumbass, he's clearly been in a crisis before. There's a telltale sense of forward momentum, just figuring out the next step and then going on from there. One step at a time. "He's trying to help me and Orihime," he says with another wince of guilt. "We were going to trap the thing together - I guess he found out." Which he can't really fault him for. Dude's looking out for his dumbass kids.

"Ben beat it with this rune weapon. It looked like a cannon - I took down the runes. They're kind of anti-undead, I think?" He gets out his notebook as they walk, showing her what he's researched.

She lets Pepita crawl her way up onto her shoulder as they go, taking the notebook in her free hands and looking it over. She'll ignore the defense of Héctor for now, if only because it's not the most important thing to deal with at the moment. The man is still dumb for throwing himself into something he barely understands, regardless of intention.

The notebook is given a look-over as they hurry down the hall, taking the stairs to the outside. "Runes aren't really my specialty, but I've seen enough of what my brothers get into--" She pauses in her words but not her movement, her brow furrowing.

"You're making a potato gun to fight this thing. A rune potato gun?"

Um. Well. Peter looks a bit embarrassed at that.

"Yes?" he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I've made them before. Potato guns, I mean."

And why not base it off a design he knows well? He thinks it'll work.

"It's crude, but... It'll work." At least well enough for what she imagines he'll need it for. A rune gun is not exactly difficult to make--you create a difference in energy pressure, and basic physics does the rest. The anti-undead inscription also looks right to her... That should be effective, so long as this thing is actually undead.

"What happened to the cannon that you copied these from?"

Edited 2019-02-16 02:52 (UTC)

That's. Um. That's actually a really good question. There's a telltale flinch of Peter Parker guilt.

"I don't know," he admits. "I was so messed up by the fight I didn't go back until it was gone."

Oh good. A rune weapon just... somewhere out on the campus. Not that it would be impossible to make a rune weapon on the fly, but she has no idea how sophisticated this thing is... And he did call it a "cannon".

She sighs, just as she reaches the doors to the outside, pushing them open and waiting for Peter to move through. "It's not important right now, but we'll go look for it later."

Once outside and several feet from the building, Pepita leaps off of Imelda's shoulder, but it's not a gray tabby cat that hits the ground. The air seems to shimmer, as if looking through waves of heat. Neon bright colors spread from the tip of Pepita's nose, through her body, to the tip of her tail. In barely more than a blink of the eye, she grows several times larger, horns curling in through the fur behind her ears, her back legs morphing into an eagle's talons and her tail into a lizard's, while a pair of wings sprout and unfurl from her back.

Giant paws hit the ground with a thump, and then pad softly as she turns to the side. She crouches down, making a smaller distance for the two humans to climb up--which Imelda immediately does. She then turns and holds out her hand to help Peter up.

"Do you have everything you need to put that together? Aside from the spells?"

Holy shit. Peter stops dead for a moment, just staring. He'd known Pepita could transform, but. Uh. That's crazy. He's impressed, honestly.

"I - yeah," he says, still staring at Pepita's back. "It's in my backpack. I stuffed everything in there." And some parts are crumpled, but he really doesn't have time to deal with that right now. He wants to ask if he's really supposed to hop up, but. There's her hand. Carefully, carefully, he takes it, levering himself up onto Pepita's back.

Imelda grasps Peter's hand and pulls him up onto Pepita's back, where there's more than enough room for them to kneel comfortably. "Alright. Start putting it together, and I'll add whatever spells you need." So long as he can work and sit on a flying cat at the same time. Fortunately, Imelda gets the impression that he's not exactly scared of heights...

She waits for Peter to situate himself before continuing, "You never said where we were going. Do you know where they are?"

This is definitely one of the weirder things he's ever done. Climbed buildings? Oh yeah. Fought in the Outlands? For sure. Climbed up on top of a magical cat's back? Not so much. He situates himself as best he can, both a little freaked out and excited.

"Yeah, I do," he says. "I can definitely point it out to you."

"Alright." That seems good enough for her. She gives her familiar a pat on the back of her neck, and calls "Let's go, Pepita!" With a leap, the chimera takes to the air, her wings flapping in slow but powerful downbursts to gain altitude. The first few seconds is a little rocky, but the ride smooths out afterwards--enough to give them time to map out where to go and start assembling an anti-undead potato gun.

Tatsumaki is all business right now. She is concerned for Orihime, and that's why she agreed to come along without a moment's hesitation. Tatsumaki will never be known for being fun or for her excellent people skills, but she's loyal. And right now, what this situation needs is someone who can maintain a cool head. This will be an emotional situation for Orihime. Tatsumaki, on the other hand, has no attachment to Sora beyond the fact that he's Orihime's brother. She's going to use her telekinesis to hold him still, and no amount of pleading or guilt tripping will stop her.

With a nod, she took to the air. While there was absolutely nothing subtle about the green glowing light surrounding her, the monster still probably wouldn't be focused on her. It was fixated on Orihime.

She sent out a telepathic message to Orihime and Hector. /If we need to communicate, think of this like a conference call with our minds./

As a personal code of conduct, she wasn't invasive with her telepathy unless she was helping people she was tutoring work on their mental defenses. This was surface thoughts only.

The first surface thought to flicker through the psychic network was a delighted little thrill from Orihime: 'Tatsumaki is so cool!'

Her mental defenses needed work. At least the thought was harmless enough.

She felt better about communicating what was going on this way. She wasn't about to say it out loud before, but now that she was sure she wouldn't be overheard... 'It's Peter's ghost twin making the whistle, because he can't quite talk for some reason. But his soul signature is all wrong. I don't think it's really him.' She ducked under a branch, pushing it aside as she continued to run toward the source of the sound. The forest floor descended sharply as it angled downward toward the river, forcing Orihime to shift her center of gravity as she picked her way over the loose rocks and dirt.

The sound was much closer now, and close to the water, she could see a sort of cave formed out of broken shale. The opening was barely big enough for a small dog to fit through, and wedged tightly into that opening was the ghostly image of Peter Parker. His face was streaked with mud, and he appeared pale and trembling as he pursed his lips and blew another whistling signal.

It was wrong. She knew it couldn't possibly be him, but her heart constricted at the sight anyway. How did a ghost get buried like that? Couldn't they become incorporeal and phase through it? Then again, he'd always been real enough that she could touch him when they danced, so maybe it was possible.

'I see him. Please watch my back.'

"Ghost-san? What happened?!" Orihime ran toward him as recklessly as she might have been expected to do, even if her senses were on high alert.

His own surfaces thoughts, in a stream of spanish, include 'oh god what--' and 'how much here is being heard?' and then, as that initial burst of panic settles, he brings those surface thoughts to english.

'Ah, this actually is pretty convenient. And weird. ¿Hola, Tatsumaki? I'm Héctor. Nice to meet you. And hello, Orihime.'

He listens to Orihime's explanation, hurrying along now with fear in his heart. He doesn't know anything about Peter having a ghost twin and that might just be something he asks about later if they live through this, but for now, he's taking the rest of that explanation as a very bad sign.

'I've messaged Peter. I've told him to bring someone along if he's going to show up so he isn't caught alone. He's a smart boy, so I don't imagine he'll bring anyone that's a threat to your brother. Hopefully we can take care of this before he shows.'

Orihime is far from him now. He's got to run to catch up, and so he does. He doesn't want to blow the ambush but far more than that, he doesn't want her caught alone. He swaps the phone again into his inner pocket, taking Ben's spirit blaster back up and holding it tight.

'I'll be right there, Orihime.'

Edited 2019-02-15 12:20 (UTC)

While Orihime was still working on beefing up her mental and spiritual defenses, there was one such figure who didn't have those kind of problems. One didn't stay alive for over fifty years, devouring hunters and extinguishing the lights of heroes that sought to slay him.

The only warning Hector got was a slight breath of cold air against his ear, easily written off as a breeze, before something heavy slammed into his back and shoved him to the ground on his belly. The pressure against his back didn't ease up as a claw-tipped hand pushed, holding him down. That cold breath washed over him again, curls of mist spreading over his prone form as it leaked from between the Grand Fisher's wide mouth of large, flat teeth.

"Don't alert them," he warned. "Or I'll eat them too. If you act selfishly, they'll all die." His voice was low with a mocking, entertained lilt.

A claw tapped playfully against his newly restored arm. "Who did this? The girl again? She's a nuisance," he snorted. "I was going to give you a choice, but if she's just going to undo my work, there's really no point, is there?"

One moment he's running ahead, and the next he's hitting the ground and a weight is pressing down. The weight is heavy, nearly crushing. It would be so, so easy to crack his ribs like this. That cold breath... he doesn't have to see the monster to know that it's him.

That voice confirms it, all to familiar now, though for once he understands the words. He almost wishes he didn't. Fear puts his mind to a brief blank, and it's merciful in that way, giving him time to let his surface thoughts return to spanish.

He shudders as the monster taps at his arm, the memory of that pain still fresh in his mind. Though it's not enough to stop him from blurting out, "No, no! It wasn't her! You can spare her! Please you can- you can..."

He can what? He knows how this is going to end. There isn't a choice here. He can see the canon some ways ahead, thrown out of his reach. He can't grasp the crowbar like this. The memory of Sora being torn at flickers in mind before he can fully stop it. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and his arms draw in, trembling.

"...Don't make me hurt them. Don't... don't make me hurt my daughter. Please, if you've got kill me, do it. Do whatever you want with me, but don't make me hurt my daughter. Not her, ay dios, not her."

"You think I was controlling every Hollow? Pfeh! You're a fool." He snorted again. "Hollows seek their own prey. Those sycophants only devoured that man because they know following me will get them fed. The old man sought the boy all on his own. You'll do the same." The glowing red slits within his mask narrowed. "It will seem like the only thing that fills the emptiness inside. You won't be able to help yourself."

He leaned in close, pulling in a mighty sniff that ruffled the black hair that somehow clung to Hector's skull.

"I wonder...who will you eat first?"

He was a fool. A stupid, stupid fool full of old tricks that didn't work. He's trembling, head to toe, blinking back tears as the monster's cold breath and colder words chill him to the core.

He can hear himself muttering in chant, "No. No, no, no, no mi hija. Not her. Not my daughter, no--"

It's not meant to be a distraction. But if it is, all the better. He sets his hand alight, pulling the flesh back off the bone and quickly pulling it free at the wrist. He throws it out to that blaster and grips it. And then, still holding the thing, summons his hand back to connect again. He turns the blaster in his hands, one skeletal and one whole, and points it.

But on his stomach like this, he can't just aim at that beast.

Voice quavering, he says, "I won't hurt my daughter. You either kill me for good or I'm blowing us both to hell."

Edited 2019-02-17 07:33 (UTC)

Tatsumaki's able to sense danger, and she can sense it and that there's a presence here that doesn't belong here. The mental conference call is still active, and she can hear Hector talking from a distance even if she can't hear exactly what he's saying. She's keeping an eye on the situation from above.

/Hector. I know there's something there with you. Whatever it is, it can't hear whatever I'm saying like this./

She was keeping tabs on Orihime as well, but she felt she should let Hector know he wasn't alone.

/Give me the word and I'll rain down projectiles on it./

She was concerned that Orihime was getting too far ahead, though, so she signalled her friend.

/Something's wrong. I'm waiting on a response from Hector./

Orihime stiffened at the mental contact, still staring at the pained face of the ghostly boy trying to reach out for her, mutely pleading. It wasn't real. She knew that. But there was still a part of her stubbornly refusing to recognize the danger, urging her to rush to his aid.

Was there something she was missing? Or was this really a trap meant to divide them? Hector should have been responding, right? Was he a hidden target? Was the ghost trying to isolate her to eliminate her and her powers?

She took a step back, and the ghost's face turned even more pale and lined with desperation. Guilt stabbed at her, almost keeping her rooted to the spot. But the core of spiritual wrongness wasn't here, it was back where Hector was. That's where she needed to be.

I'm sorry. If it's really you, I'm sorry.

She turned and ran.

* * * * *

Hector's threat produced a deep and throaty chuckle from the monster on top of him. He reached for the bazooka, then slammed his clawed hand down fiercely, trying to crush it. If he had to ruin Hector's arm again to do it, no loss to him.

"You think you have power in this situation. You don't."

He growled, annoyance staining his tone. The girl wasn't falling for the lure, and was heading back.

"Your friends are coming back. You told them, didn't you? Tsk." He inhaled sharply, and Hector would feel a sharp tugging meant to sever him from his physical body and literally rip his soul from his bones. "They'll be your first meal."

He should've just shot. He should've just pulled the trigger. But maybe some part of him still hoped, still couldn't let go of life.

The claws slam down and he cries out but doesn't feel his bones shatter this time, maybe thanks to the flesh protecting them, but not for long. The monster's weight keeps pressing down as he desperately tries to grasp the splintering trigger.

He nearly misses Tatsumaki's words filling his head, but the second time around he definitely catches them, just as the monster points out his futility-- and worse.

"No! I--" What did it matter? Even without having tried he's pissed off this thing and put those in danger. His hands finally tug free and the canon is crushed. The Hollow's right. He does have no power. But that girl might.

It knows you're both coming. I can't get out of the way of it. If you can take a shot, please--

His thought process cuts as suddenly that ripping sensation starts. He can't think through it, can't speak nor scream. He merely chokes and trembles as his soul resists leaving. This monster's eaten plenty of souls and killed the living to get them but he's not quite either. Instead of a clean tug, his body flickers violently. Flesh rots and dissolves, bones grow haircracks and go straight to golden golden dust in other places. That inhale is tugging him up in pieces and he's watching it all. To dust-- the catch of this second chance. If he made nothing of his unlife then he left behind nothing at all. The final death of his kind gave way to no corpse. At least, he wouldn't if the monster just let him die. He knows that's not the case.

His glow gets brighter, enveloping him, and he swears for a second through the pain and horror that he can see himself going transparent. His eyes close.

Tatsumaki has never been the sort of person who can calm and reassure others with her words and kind temperament. Instead, the assurance she offers others is through her knowledge and power. And yet, it never feels like quite enough for her. Until she can destroy all of her enemies, it's not enough. So she strives for more and more power, all so she can live up to the words that have become her mantra.

"Hone your power to your fullest potential. Prevent losses like yours from happening to others."

It might have seemed like a harsh thing for a mage to say to an eleven year old girl who just lost her grandfather, but they were exactly what she needed. Some deal with grief through sadness. Some express it through grief and channeling it into outlets.

All of the monsters Tatsumaki fights are just that: an outlet. They just so happen to be an outlet that allows her to protect others in the process.

Incoming!

Seizing as many sharp rocks and branches as she can, the objects are promptly surrounded with the green light of Tatsumaki's Radiance before they come raining down on the vile presence lurking beside Hector.

For a greasy ball of fur and lard, the monster is fast. The whistle of the projectiles pricks at his ears, and his claw closes quickly over his prey to drag him along as he lunges to the side, and again, and again, dodging the majority of the projectiles. A couple manage to embed themselves into the fur, but there's no blood, so it's hard to say if they just got lost in his shaggy hide or if they managed to dig in and strike true.

He's also not afraid to hold Hector up as a shield, doing whatever it takes to survive. He's not so proud that he won't take the coward's way out.

Even if he isn't horrifically injured from the attack, Tatsumaki managed to stop the creature from feeding on Hector's heart and transforming him into one of his minions. It would have been much worse if they had two monsters to worry about.

Meanwhile, Orihime is running as fast as she can, now more confident in her decision to turn back. Leafless branches snag and tug at her clothes and hair, and though she winces when her cheek gets raked, she isn't the slightest bit slowed down. She can feel the approach of other spiritual signatures, one that she recognizes intimately as Peter's. But the other two, she doesn't know at all. One doesn't even feel human. She just hopes that they belong to allies, and not to cohorts of the monster.

He wishes it were the first time he'd been "shot". It's not. Hunters weren't all friendly. Most weren't, in fact. Unfortunately that didn't make this much easier.

It's dizzying, feeling his soul ripping up, feeling the remains of his body move, then strugle to reform, only to be stabbed through with sticks and stones just as his consciousness settles back in place. He always thought it was strange, being able to bleed when just a push of his magic could whisk his whole body away, but bleed he does, that slower flow of something post mortem. He looks down at his limply dangling body with a strange sort of detachment. There are scratches galore, holes in him left by stones, like the gnarly bullet wounds of a gun. A few smaller twigs have stabbed in and stuck there, the biggest one being a smaller branch through his middle. He grips it curiously and despite the pain and dizziness he hears himself laugh, quiet and cut through with coughs.

"That's ironic... You can actually die from all this...can't you? Ss...some m-monster..."

But his laughter quickly dies as he sees who's there now, before them. He looks stricken for a moment. Then, weakly and stupidly, still held by the monster, he waves a hand and puts on a grimace of a smile. "I-Imelda...! You look g-good... Hola, Peter... Pepita..."

Edited 2019-03-19 16:46 (UTC)

Pepita comes to a halt several paces from the creature, haunches raised and teeth bared. A low growl rumbles from her throat, sending a warning that she's ready to attack at any moment. Imelda, meanwhile, takes that pause as a cue to slide off of the chimera's back, her sights set on the thing holding her husband like a shield.

Her... currently impaled husband who seems to think it's a good moment for flattery. It's a momentary distraction--an incredulous look thrown his way. "Now is not the time, Héctor."

The more important issue is the creature hiding behind him, and she gives the thing a careful study with a very cold look. "You can drop him now, or I can have Pepita take him back--and your arm with him. Your choice." She's going to murder this thing regardless, but not having Héctor in the way would be helpful.

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The Lure of Bitter Revenge

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