we'll rendezvous in cold blood

[niceassassin]

WHO: niceassassin and fantasycliche, reunited at last
WHERE: The Superjail, to start with
WHEN: Yesterday, Christmas day!
WARNINGS: Probably innuendo. Possibly violence, but let's hope not.
SUMMARY: Zevran busts Khisanth out of the Superjail for her Christmas present.
FORMAT: Prose to start with, wherever from then on.

Comments

[fantasycliche]

It's not as if she knows the day. Not only does she have no idea what sort of holidays humans around here celebrate, but she hasn't been in the mood to care since she came home to find a group waiting for her in her living room. And that dark mood has really only gotten worse. Recently she's taken to lying on her bed, curled in as tight a ball as her stiff human spine will allow, and staring at nothing in particular. She's probably an awful sight. She can't bring herself to care much about that, either.

And when she's informed she has a visitor, it's even harder to find the motivation to want to get up. What if it's Vic again? It's not hard for her over zealous human heart to hate, but she doesn't want to deal with the exertion of it. What she wants most is to just lie still and watch the days pass.

But she is eventually stirred, lead into the room, and told to sit. She does. With dark hair dull and loose around her downcast face, she looks more like she's been behind bars for a lifetime, instead of barely a month. It feels like it'

[niceassassin]

He won't stoop to giving her a straight answer. They are, after all, only friends. He doesn't serve her. So instead, he arches a brow and casts her an amused look. "You've let yourself go, I fear. Perhaps it's not worth rescuing you from this squalor after all."

It's more a test than anything, to see how far she's really fallen. And he keeps his voice light, like it's all a jest, to avoid rousing suspicion.

[fantasycliche]

It's the voice that rouses her most of all. Distinctly and pleasantly accented, almost never serious. A smile starts at the corners of her eyes and makes it shortly to warm the rest of her face, more glad than looks entirely natural on her. She glances away quickly, still having enough self-awareness to be embarrassed at the feeling of tears starting to prickle.

Tears. How ridiculously human. She'd never cried in her life, not before staying far too long in this shape and losing all freedom. She hates that more than any other aspect of this whole ordeal.

"Take me out of this squalor, and see the improvement," she says, when she's sure she can trust her voice. She hasn't quite processed the statement yet, not really. She's still working on beating back some of that overwhelming gladness to see a familiar face.

[niceassassin]

The smile is as much as he expected, but there's something more to it--something about the look in her eyes--she isn't going to cry, is she? No, of course not. (It passes.) Good. That would just be awkward.

"Only if I can be certain you don't plan to eat me as soon as you're free," he teases, and though it's true teasing, it also covers something up: as he smiles, his eyes are serious, and they flick warningly towards the surveillance cameras.

What does she plan to do about those? About the guards?

Zevran is the last person in this world or any others to balk at killing, of course. But he's pretty sure it won't be that easy.

[fantasycliche]

She catches the glance, and knows what it means. She's not so ridiculously inundated by emotions that she can't still think, and thank the gods for that much. And think she does. First comes surprise, that Zevran would be willing to help her. Then a fresh rush of gladness, both for the fact he's here, and for the fact that he's a friend. Then an annoyed, determined shove at any emotion that won't help her right now. She's done nothing but lie around and indulge these feelings for a month; time to be a little more respectable

[niceassassin]

"Truly?" Zevran plays along for now, and with his next words he reassures anyone watching that really, all this talk of escape is just a joke: "Ah, I see. You seduce the first guard, and I the next. That will work wonders, no?"

The room's camera is on his side of the glass. He presses a hand to the wall just beneath it. "But let us speak the truth, my dear Onyx." And with that name he lets her know that he's not speaking truths. "I'm not here for rescue. I--"

He flexes his hand, and a long dagger materializes in it--shattering the front of the camera in the process. As quickly as it came, the blade vanishes. "You might wish to speak your piece now, or I truly won't be here for rescue. They'll send guards to investigate why their technology failed soon enough."

[fantasycliche]

Well. That's a handy trick, isn't it? She's only surprised for a second, though. And then she's pushing out of her chair and standing, trying to resist the urge to press a hand thankfully against the glass. That would look foolish and achieve nothing. (Unfortunately the struggle isn't entirely successful, and she ends with fingertips brushing uselessly against the glass.)

"They've barred me from my own shape, but--" A quick hesitation, but there's no use in keeping her secret now. "But not from any other."

She smiles, but it's only there for an instant. Then in its place is a glossy black crow, on the floor where she'd stood, struggling to be out from under the suddenly heaped clothing. She has it shortly, and snatching the fabric in her beak, makes the short hop to the small window in the glass to begin tucking it under. If she's going to disappear, after all, she has to do it fully. Hopefully Zevran has enough room somewhere on him to hide an ugly prison outfit.

[niceassassin]

Someone else might take this time to give Khisanth a lecture about how she'd better not make him regret this. Zevran, however, just watches with bleak amusement in his eyes. He knows he's going to get in trouble for this, and he doesn't know whether Khisanth deserves her freedom. But they called each other friend.

"Ha." He didn't expect that he'd actually be able to free her right here and now, but he'll roll with it, since it's happening. "A crow? Truly? Ah, well, it is no more than I deserve." He doesn't bother explaining that odd remark, but instead helps pull the clothing out and tuck it away under his jacket. "Someday someone will teach me to know better than to help dragons. Fortunately for you, my dear, that day has not yet come."

[fantasycliche]

She can't guess at the meaning behind the first remark, and she doesn't have the time or interest to guess. Once she's finished dragging the clothes through, she ducks across herself, and a hop and a quick flap brings her to a perch on his shoulder.

She croaks, and nips affectionately at the bottom of his ear, under the brim of the hat. "Favors owed from dragons, I hear, are terribly useful. You've earned a lifetime of them."

It's a raw, raspy voice, just like the croak. And then in a second she's changed again, and there's a brown field mouse scurrying down under the neck of his shirt.

[niceassassin]

Maybe he'll explain it to her someday. Or maybe not: risking himself to rescue someone is a different story than telling her about his past. "Let's hope it is a long lifetime of them," he remarks with a momentary smirk.

Out in the hallway comes the sound of guards approaching. Zevran gives a last chuckle, then pulls down his power of stealth and watches the world go strange around him, glimmering and indistinct, dream-like. When the door opens, there's nothing to be seen, and he slips out in the puzzled guard's wake. Getting out of the building proper takes a little more maneuvering, but he's had months now to perfect his usage of this ability, and he manages it.

[fantasycliche]

She's found herself a place somewhere in Zevran's sleeve, one beady little eye just managing to peek out. It takes her a second to realize what he's done, and the mouse's brain, fearful of everything, eyes the guard in something just below terror. But then they're moving without mishap, and she settles in with tiny claws clutching fabric to wait out the ride.

There's so much to do, when (if? no, when) they make it outside. She'll have to do something about Dick, first of all. Possibly Vic, as well. Zatanna, Batwoman? Maybe. But those two, certainly. It's hard to think of anything else as she waits out the escape.