Kurogane was very much not the creative type, so naturally the nurse didn't care for his protests of having an "Arts and Crafts" time and forced him into the room
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When she was pulled away from her so-called "lessons" with Kio, Ophelia had almost been tempted to go back to the Sun Room. In the end, though, she decided that it would be advantageous to explore as many different areas of this place as she could in order to get a better feel for it and thus have better chances of escaping. Thus, she let herself be taken to the "Arts and Crafts" room
( ... )
Lunch didn't feel nearly long enough. There was still more Callisto believed she could have done to toy with poor Sanzo. Another time, perhaps. She didn't know what she was going to be able to get done in this next shift, seeing as art was about as low on his list of interests as anything could get.
She took a seat across from another blonde woman she hadn't seen before, ignoring her at first in favor of some fingerpaint. Given the way the staff of the Institute tended to treat their patients like children, she doubt they'd think much of it if she made a complete mess of things. She could still spice it up a bit. Reaching for the red paint, she coated the fingers of one hand with it and began spattering it across the paper.
Ophelia raised an eyebrow when the other woman sat across from her and stuck her fingertips in the red paint. She hadn't seen anyone paint with their fingers before. Weren't artists supposed to use brushes or something? She was strangely delighted by what the other woman was doing, though. Though it wasn't blood, unfortunately, the splashes of red across the paper were bright and beautiful, reminding her of many an instance of lovely carnage. She was tempted to join in, if only because she couldn't vent her frustrations with this place during the day, it seemed. Hmm . . . Sure. Why not?
She reached for a piece of white paper and dipped the tips of her index and middle fingers into the other woman's container of paint. "Hope you don't mind if I share. Seems to be a better way to pass the time than just sitting here," she said with a smile that seemed somewhat off. She dragged her fingertips across the paper, her grin widening as she imagined the paint to perhaps be Arlene's blood.
"Knock yourself out," Callisto muttered, staring down at her own paper and trying to figure out what else to do with it. Just leaving it a red mess seemed too uninteresting. Maybe some people?
The former warlord stuck her pinky in the black and added a few of what weren't more than glorified stick figures. It had been so long since she'd done anything artistic. She'd be fine with them even looking remotely human shaped. Adding anything like hair was out of the question, as it might just end up looking like extra limbs given her overall skill. Then again, a couple monsters mixed in might not necessarily be a bad thing.
Was she actually trying to enjoy this? "I think they've mistaken us for little brats."
Ophelia didn't particularly need other colours. She had always been fascinated with red, and that was good enough for her now. Dipping her fingertips in the container again, she let the paint drip onto her paper this time, watching it splatter wherever the impact lead it to.
"I do believe so," she agreed, lazily smearing the splatters that had fallen with her other hand. "I would much rather be allowed some temporary isolation so that I might practice my skills and test my limits in this frustrating new body. What I wouldn't give to have my sword back, as well."
The need for a sword was something Callisto could understand. She was in need of one herself. Or, barring that, a blade of any sort would do. The rod from her closet hadn't been all that effective against the last beast of a man she'd been up against.
It was the other comment that got her. "New body?" She'd heard talk of not all the patients originally being human, but it was still something that was difficult to take in. She gave the woman an odd sort of smile. "So what were you before, exactly?"
She so hoped she'd say something with multiple limbs and/or heads. That would make for an interesting discussion.
The corners of Ophelia's mouth quirked up at the other woman's interest. "For most of my life, I have been a half-human, half-yoma warrior commonly known as a Claymore. Yoma in my world are like demons, and prey on the guts of humans. Claymores were created to protect humans and slay yoma, though I can't say I have a particularly strong desire to fight for the survival of the human race," she explained, pulling streaks across the page in opposite directions to form a large X. "I mainly enjoy the side benefits of the job. Namely the rush of action and the beauty found in the chaos and bloodshed of battle."
She sighed in disappointment at that, though. "Unfortunately, I find myself here with my former strength and senses weakened, and my blade is nowhere to be found. It's incredibly unfair of them," she said with a slight pout in her tone.
A claymore? Wasn't that just a type of sword? The explanation left her a little skeptical, but knowing what she did about this place she could hardly contend it. She'd just have to go with the possibility that this other woman was telling the truth. "So in order to destroy demons in your world they merged humans with them? Classic."
Maybe she'd added too many people to the image. It was starting to look like a bunch of large ants had crawled across the paper and gotten squished.
From the sound of things, this woman sounded like she might have made a warlord to be reckoned with in Callisto's own time. It was because of this that the other blonde left out any mention of what she'd been before she arrived. "Yes, they enjoy toying with us here. It wouldn't be any fun for them if we could fight back."
"Seems to be the only thing that works. Humans have no chance against most yoma, otherwise, poor weak things that they are," said Ophelia, removing her hands from the paper to survey her work. The paper was more red than white now, but it was still not entirely satisfying. Well, of course that was because the paint wasn't real blood. But she couldn't very well go about slashing open someone's throat just to add better ingredients to her picture. After a few moments, the best she could think of in the absence of sharp objects was to dig her fingernails into the tip of her thumb until she got a small cut started. There. That would add at least a tiny bit of legitimacy to her fun.
"I take it you have some experience with the ways in which they like to toy with us?" she asked squeezing her thumb over the paper and letting the droplets of blood fall, the darker red mixing with the bright red of the paint. "Have you made much progress in fighting against Landel's game?"
"Some..." Callisto watched Ophelia add to her painting with a slightly raised brow. Definitely into the bloodshed, this one. Such a trait wasn't something the former warlord could really respect someone for until she met them on the battlefield. Otherwise she considered it unnecessary show.
She slid her own picture aside, only partially caring what the nurses would make of it. (Though given her actions so far, they probably wouldn't be all that surprised.) The table was a mess and she'd just taken a shower, but she crossed her arms over the top of it anyway.
"And progress is a relative term." She'd apparently gained access to somewhere others weren't yet allowed, but should she share that bit of information so soon? She decided not, and grinned instead. "I've seen him, though. Has a bit of a god complex."
Ophelia wasn't particularly concerned with showing off her "art" to anyone. She was more than satisfied just staring at those beautiful red tones herself. She did have cause to look up from her work, however, when the other woman mentioned something that caught her attention. "Oh have you now?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and an intrigued grin. "Those I have asked so far seemed to have agreed that no one has gotten to him so far. How is it that you came to see him, then, I wonder?"
As she waited for an answer, however, she noticed something else that was intriguing: her small cut was already starting to heal over, far faster than a cut of the same size would be healing for a human. Hmm, so not everything was taken away, then? she wondered.
There was an interesting comment. "Perhaps you just haven't spoken to the right people. From what I've heard, he's made appearances before." Of course there was always the chance that she'd been lied to previously, in which case the person responsible might find themselves at the end of the first sharp object she could find. For now, she was willing to go with it simply because this other woman appeared newer than herself.
"And..." Callisto smirked, creating a few abstract lines with her finger on a new sheet of paper, "how I came to see him is my own little secret."
"That is possible. I haven't spoken to many so far, so perhaps I have spoken to those who are merely ignorant," Ophelia answered, staring more at her thumb now than anything else. Yes, it was a bit slower to heal than she was used to, but she was fairly certain that humans healed even slower than this from what she remembered of her own childhood. She made a mental note to further test the limits of her healing abilities later.
She looked back to the other woman. Her smirk was very familiar, which brought forth a similar expression on her face. "Everyone is entitled to their secrets, of course," she replied. "That does excite me, though. The possibility of actually finding Landel and giving him his just desserts seems more within reach than it did a few minutes ago."
Callisto watched the other woman as she examined her thumb. So small a wound hardly deserved that much attention, though she was getting the idea that her new 'friend' simply enjoyed the sight of blood - even her own. She gave a little nod in her direction, pointing towards the injury with a motion just as short. "You gonna be okay there?"
It wasn't actual concern, of course, with the question almost teasing. Why did she always end up sitting with the weird ones?
Ophelia shook her head. "Oh, it's nothing. It's something interesting I noticed now," she assured the other woman. Not particularly concerned with keeping many secrets of her own, she explained, "One of my abilities as a warrior was rapid healing. I had assumed that all of my special abilities had been drained . . ." She turned the pad of her thumb so that the woman could see it. The small cut was now completely closed over, though the mark hadn't disappeared yet. ". . . But that appears to not be the case, apparently."
If Callisto still had the same abilities she'd possessed as a god then she probably wouldn't have even bled. It seemed she'd lost those upon her second death, however, and the abilities she'd had as a speaker for the lord of Hell hadn't been returned to her even in the slightest. Here, she was simply human. Even so, what she'd once been was more impressive than some half-demon spawn in her mind.
"Interesting," she said anyway. Because it was. "That's a useful thing to have in a place like this. Careful you aren't made into a shield because of it." She smirked again. It was highly unlikely such a thing would happen. Most of the men here were far too pathetically chivalrous.
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She took a seat across from another blonde woman she hadn't seen before, ignoring her at first in favor of some fingerpaint. Given the way the staff of the Institute tended to treat their patients like children, she doubt they'd think much of it if she made a complete mess of things. She could still spice it up a bit. Reaching for the red paint, she coated the fingers of one hand with it and began spattering it across the paper.
Reply
She reached for a piece of white paper and dipped the tips of her index and middle fingers into the other woman's container of paint. "Hope you don't mind if I share. Seems to be a better way to pass the time than just sitting here," she said with a smile that seemed somewhat off. She dragged her fingertips across the paper, her grin widening as she imagined the paint to perhaps be Arlene's blood.
Reply
The former warlord stuck her pinky in the black and added a few of what weren't more than glorified stick figures. It had been so long since she'd done anything artistic. She'd be fine with them even looking remotely human shaped. Adding anything like hair was out of the question, as it might just end up looking like extra limbs given her overall skill. Then again, a couple monsters mixed in might not necessarily be a bad thing.
Was she actually trying to enjoy this? "I think they've mistaken us for little brats."
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"I do believe so," she agreed, lazily smearing the splatters that had fallen with her other hand. "I would much rather be allowed some temporary isolation so that I might practice my skills and test my limits in this frustrating new body. What I wouldn't give to have my sword back, as well."
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It was the other comment that got her. "New body?" She'd heard talk of not all the patients originally being human, but it was still something that was difficult to take in. She gave the woman an odd sort of smile. "So what were you before, exactly?"
She so hoped she'd say something with multiple limbs and/or heads. That would make for an interesting discussion.
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She sighed in disappointment at that, though. "Unfortunately, I find myself here with my former strength and senses weakened, and my blade is nowhere to be found. It's incredibly unfair of them," she said with a slight pout in her tone.
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Maybe she'd added too many people to the image. It was starting to look like a bunch of large ants had crawled across the paper and gotten squished.
From the sound of things, this woman sounded like she might have made a warlord to be reckoned with in Callisto's own time. It was because of this that the other blonde left out any mention of what she'd been before she arrived. "Yes, they enjoy toying with us here. It wouldn't be any fun for them if we could fight back."
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"I take it you have some experience with the ways in which they like to toy with us?" she asked squeezing her thumb over the paper and letting the droplets of blood fall, the darker red mixing with the bright red of the paint. "Have you made much progress in fighting against Landel's game?"
Reply
She slid her own picture aside, only partially caring what the nurses would make of it. (Though given her actions so far, they probably wouldn't be all that surprised.) The table was a mess and she'd just taken a shower, but she crossed her arms over the top of it anyway.
"And progress is a relative term." She'd apparently gained access to somewhere others weren't yet allowed, but should she share that bit of information so soon? She decided not, and grinned instead. "I've seen him, though. Has a bit of a god complex."
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As she waited for an answer, however, she noticed something else that was intriguing: her small cut was already starting to heal over, far faster than a cut of the same size would be healing for a human. Hmm, so not everything was taken away, then? she wondered.
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"And..." Callisto smirked, creating a few abstract lines with her finger on a new sheet of paper, "how I came to see him is my own little secret."
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She looked back to the other woman. Her smirk was very familiar, which brought forth a similar expression on her face. "Everyone is entitled to their secrets, of course," she replied. "That does excite me, though. The possibility of actually finding Landel and giving him his just desserts seems more within reach than it did a few minutes ago."
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It wasn't actual concern, of course, with the question almost teasing. Why did she always end up sitting with the weird ones?
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"Interesting," she said anyway. Because it was. "That's a useful thing to have in a place like this. Careful you aren't made into a shield because of it." She smirked again. It was highly unlikely such a thing would happen. Most of the men here were far too pathetically chivalrous.
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