Nightshift 19 - F1 Hall
Another night in this place. And, if the intercom was to be believed, more experimentation. Lust realized that she needed to learn the fake names of her companions, to be on the lookout for things such as this. She knew her supposed name, but no others. Ah well. She could only hope that Scar, Dias or River weren't among the ones taken. And
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Lust folded her arms. She was growing tired of this and most likely Ginji was long gone. "As I said, do what you will. But you won't survive long without me. I won't bother holding anyone back from you - and you can't fight them all. Not even with help. You have far too many enemies in this place. One would think a woman who claims to be as intelligent as you do would realize that. Of course, I'm beginning to doubt your intelligence as it is. I've already lied to you to multiple times in this place and you've accepted them without question. I wasn't with Scarecrow that night I abandoned you - I haven't spoken to the man in days. I was with Scar."
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Still, the Scholar listened quietly, ears and attention alert. Lust's insistence that she had a soul was very heartening; that meant that the woman was out of Dante's jurisdiction... and right in Ling's. Another chain to bind Dante to her will, added to the groaning pile weighing the other woman down. This would be almost too easy, at this rate.
That was why, when Lust was done with her piece, Ling spoke up again. Her voice was quiet, almost bored; even though the Scholar had done a remarkably good job at keeping it from affecting her composure. "The night grows old, soon the Celestial Dragon shall begin stirring in his slumber. Lust; if you wish to kill her and obtain your revenge, then do so so we may be perfectly clear in this matter. Otherwise, let us part ways so I may make my offer and free her. All of us have many pressing concerns, none of which involve recounting the past. It is done; let us move forward."
Now, perhaps they could move on. The Scholar was most anticipatory.
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Dante couldn't have that. And she wouldn't have had to deal with it if they had all kept her past a secret. She probably would have escaped by now had they not hindered her by turning the whole hospital against her.
She was ready to put the past in the past, even if Lust refused. She wanted to hear what the Scholar had to offer.
Stepping towards the nearest door, Dante clapped her hands together, grabbing the door handle and forming it into a dagger. It was crooked and dull, she realized, running her fingers over it in disgust. But it would work. Holding it in front of her chest, she swaggered towards the former Homunculus, regaining some of her former dignity with the small demonstration of power.
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"I don't intend to kill her this night. Take her, then, and do what you will with her. I give her to you for the time being - but I will have what she owes me. It is the way of our world."
She nodded to the woman and continued to ignore Dante, as though the alchemist was nothing.
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...not yet, anyway. It would depend on how her negotiations went with Dante, apparently. "You shall have what you demand, in the fullness of time. Let us speak again during the daylight hours."
Then she turned to Dante, indicating Ling's own room. "Come with me; this offer is for your ears alone."
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'Let's just hope it doesn't come to that.' Lust was weaker than she was letting on. Dante was sure of it. She remembered scooping her misshapen body out of the desert and cradling her in her arms, and knew that that part of Lust was still in her somewhere. She would just have to find it.
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Agony. White-hot, piercing, all-consuming agony exploded in her mind; twisting with enough force to make even her iron-hard control slip. It was far worse than the pain of dying, exceeding the most virulent of poisons or the deadliest of weapons.
It felt like words, feelings, impressions were being burned into her mind. A desperate plea for rescue, and yet still with the arrogance to suggest terms. Not like a certain deity, who had been weak in her desperation, but rather suggesting strength and resilience- that aid would be welcome, but the one responsible would not perish if left alone.
Thus far, only one person had shown such incredible audacity in the entire Institute, and Ling hardly needed to 'feel' the one responsible before knowing who it was. Schuldig. That arrogant, yet undeniably endearing Outlander.
She had a general idea where he was. The telepathic blow seemed to come from above somewhere, and the plea seemed to include a rough mental image of where he was. And what he needed help from. They were going to experiment on the Outlander. Her ally.
The rage of Scholar Ling could not be expressed in words. It was a palpable force, a sudden hot breeze flowing from her as her perpetual discord flared. Her shadow seemed to twist and distort, becoming positively demonic as it reached up to the edges of the light with clawed hands. She would rescue Schuldig, and if she happened to catch the one responsible, she would show exactly why such things were to never be tolerated.
"Come with me, Dante," she said, as the overpowering pain passed, "come, and you shall see the protection I am willing to offer. I swear this; all under my protection shall know no fear, not from life and not from death. Even if the entire world were to be weighed against me."
With that she took off down the hallway at a rapid, yet energy-saving pace. She would tear the Institute down with her bare hands if she had to.
((Charging off to the hallways between Male and Female Wings. ))
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