For a luxury cruise, the Elegante didn't seem to have much to preoccupy a woman like Capris. Perhaps it was just a problem with her? Perhaps jumping on her high horse and capturing a rapist had left her unsatisfied with painting her nails?
Well. Whatever the case (and because said nails had already been painted three times today), she found herself sliding into Batou's room. Maybe just to stare at Erol, maybe to speak to the cyborg - whom she found an intelligent conversationalist - maybe someone else would be there...
"But then, you'd know evil. Wouldn't you. Boy."
The words reached her ears as she reached through the shadows.
It was right there, the Dark Eco was RIGHT there inside him, pulling towards Erol, gravitating towards the source of Jak's hatred and anger, swelling, rising ...
Glancing askance at Capris as she stepped out from the shadows of the room -- how long had she been there? -- Jak scowled, forcing it back down inside, back where he could control it and keep it from completely taking over his sanity.
Erol glanced over as the girl appeared. He hadn't heard the door, and she certainly wasn't here earlier. Something more than meets the eye on that one.
Didn't mitigate the fact that Erol hated her guts and would be happy to see them spilled. She was a cock tease, beautiful, capable, confident and afflicted with a sense of morality. He HATED that.
"Boy claims I'm evil," he tossed aside. "Suppose it could be true. Don't actually care."
Erol had always found such things boring, tedious. He was what he was; the strong took from the weak; those who could, did. Why bother with right and wrong? His disdain for the value system came through in his tone, and he started pacing again.
Jak had been tainted with Dark Eco for far too long to miss that look from Capris.
That look.
Turning away, he stalked to the other end of the room, frustrated that Erol had managed to bring him so close to lashing out. But it wasn't just Erol, something about here, this room, this set up. It set him on edge, made him jumpy and defensive and very almost fearful.
Erol laughed derisively at the girl's description of Jak as smart. Jak was many things. Smart was not one of them.
"You asked, woman. Accustomed to inquiring into half-heard conversations and then wondering why you should care? Precursors, you two are a match."
Snickering, he paced his way back to the bed, sat stiffly with an arm across his stomach to brace his side. He fatigued quickly, having eaten not quite enough after his injury to make up for blood loss and otherwise barely nibbling on enough to keep himself from getting dizzy.
"Your curiosity satisfied, or shall we debate relative morality for a few more hours."
She fought the urge to apologize to Jak, explain what she had been thinking, tell him she wasn't thinking what he obviously thought. Now was not the time. Erol was watching, waiting for a chink in the armor, and Capris loathed to give him that sort of opportunity.
"Tired?" she sauntered over, crooking her hips. "You should have invited me sooner. I didn't get the chance to play."
Gradually the Dark Eco settled, and Jak took a breath, letting it out slowly. Better. Calmer.
Reassuring Daxter with a curt nod, he rubbed his face with one hand just to make sure the horns and claws really weren't there. Not this time.
With a tired sigh, he leaned back against the wall and watched silently as Capris goaded Erol. The longer he could keep the transformation a secret the better, but it would be known eventually. Regardless, he'd deal with that when the time came; now the important thing was keeping Erol away from the rest of the ship.
Erol watched Jak retreat with hungry eyes. He LOVED getting a rise out of the boy. Even and especially when he was risking getting his own throat ripped out. Actually, he likely missed a bet there - if he could have goaded Jak into killing him... Damn. He really was getting slow from captivity. The idea unnerves him on a deep level and he funnels that anger towards Capris
( ... )
"Poor baby." She leaned a little closer, but she wasn't stupid enough to get within reach. He could call it cowardice if he'd like; she would call it self-preservation. "It must be hard being such a bastard."
Erol may have been tired, malnourished, injured and bordering on desperation, but he still watched Capris' distance from the bars with a keen eye. He was somewhere between disappointed she wouldn't come closer and gloating because she was displaying respect for the danger he posed.
"Well, you know. Isn't easy being me. Not everyone could do it."
She contemplated him for a moment. He wasn't looking too good; it didn't bother her - in fact she had been keen on the idea of starving him - but she did wonder how Batou had been treating him.
She plopped down, as though to gossip with a friend. "Your girlfriend was asking about you."
[Watching silently from the back wall, his eyes narrow slightly at Capris' casual tone, but he'd seen enough of her during their discussion meetings to know that Erol was the last person she could be buddy-buddy with. If she could get information where Jak couldn't, then he could stay quiet and out of the way in the meantime.]
Erol blinked lazily at the casual tone. She didn't fool him for a fraction of a second. He shifted his weight, taking the strain off his side; anyone with eyes to see would be able to tell he was favoring it, but after all both the boy and the redhead had gotten an eyeful earlier so it was nothing she couldn't find out anyway.
Christine, was it? Now why would she pry in that direction? What good would it do her? Most likely she wanted to dig something up that would drive a rift between them. Well, good luck. He'd bragged to Daxter, but even what he'd said to the rat he could gloss over easily if it got back to her.
"Good to know," he murmured. "Anyone else?"
Unless she was very, very good, however she phrased her reply would tell him the truth, no matter what the words were. You're dealing with a pro here, girl.
Precursors, let there be SOMEONE interested in getting him the hell out of here.
"Celeste thought you were entertaining." Wouldn't you like to know about the others. They had mentioned Even and Cadence in their last meeting, and they seemed to agree that both men could be dangerous. Celeste, however, had not been spoken about very much; she was probably the safest of the three. "You must be popular with the ladies."
Ah. Nice one. Some information, but not a lot, and not enough to be useful, and not too meager for him to determine that she was holding something serious back. He did NOT think she was divulging everything... but whether she was hiding that Lucy was throwing a party over his incarceration or that Cadence was a smug stone's throw away from busting him out was up to anyone's guess.
Celeste, Celeste Celeste Celeste.... that was.... ah, the undead girl. The one who preferred safety to fun. Tsk. Fat lot of help she'd be. He couldn't count on anyone else; business as usual.
The hard way it was, then.
"Well, you know. Animal magnetism, what can I say. Any chance of a conjugal visit? I'm certain they miss me." He smirked; it was all just banter now. He'd found out enough for his purposes.
Well. Whatever the case (and because said nails had already been painted three times today), she found herself sliding into Batou's room. Maybe just to stare at Erol, maybe to speak to the cyborg - whom she found an intelligent conversationalist - maybe someone else would be there...
"But then, you'd know evil. Wouldn't you. Boy."
The words reached her ears as she reached through the shadows.
"What's this about knowing evil?"
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Glancing askance at Capris as she stepped out from the shadows of the room -- how long had she been there? -- Jak scowled, forcing it back down inside, back where he could control it and keep it from completely taking over his sanity.
"Nothing."
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Didn't mitigate the fact that Erol hated her guts and would be happy to see them spilled. She was a cock tease, beautiful, capable, confident and afflicted with a sense of morality. He HATED that.
"Boy claims I'm evil," he tossed aside. "Suppose it could be true. Don't actually care."
Erol had always found such things boring, tedious. He was what he was; the strong took from the weak; those who could, did. Why bother with right and wrong? His disdain for the value system came through in his tone, and he started pacing again.
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It couldn't be the Darkness. That wouldn't make sense. Would it?
"But, like you said," she shrugged, "you don't care. So what's the point?"
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That look.
Turning away, he stalked to the other end of the room, frustrated that Erol had managed to bring him so close to lashing out. But it wasn't just Erol, something about here, this room, this set up. It set him on edge, made him jumpy and defensive and very almost fearful.
He didn't like it.
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"You asked, woman. Accustomed to inquiring into half-heard conversations and then wondering why you should care? Precursors, you two are a match."
Snickering, he paced his way back to the bed, sat stiffly with an arm across his stomach to brace his side. He fatigued quickly, having eaten not quite enough after his injury to make up for blood loss and otherwise barely nibbling on enough to keep himself from getting dizzy.
"Your curiosity satisfied, or shall we debate relative morality for a few more hours."
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"Tired?" she sauntered over, crooking her hips. "You should have invited me sooner. I didn't get the chance to play."
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Reassuring Daxter with a curt nod, he rubbed his face with one hand just to make sure the horns and claws really weren't there. Not this time.
With a tired sigh, he leaned back against the wall and watched silently as Capris goaded Erol. The longer he could keep the transformation a secret the better, but it would be known eventually. Regardless, he'd deal with that when the time came; now the important thing was keeping Erol away from the rest of the ship.
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"Well, you know. Isn't easy being me. Not everyone could do it."
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She contemplated him for a moment. He wasn't looking too good; it didn't bother her - in fact she had been keen on the idea of starving him - but she did wonder how Batou had been treating him.
She plopped down, as though to gossip with a friend. "Your girlfriend was asking about you."
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Christine, was it? Now why would she pry in that direction? What good would it do her? Most likely she wanted to dig something up that would drive a rift between them. Well, good luck. He'd bragged to Daxter, but even what he'd said to the rat he could gloss over easily if it got back to her.
"Good to know," he murmured. "Anyone else?"
Unless she was very, very good, however she phrased her reply would tell him the truth, no matter what the words were. You're dealing with a pro here, girl.
Precursors, let there be SOMEONE interested in getting him the hell out of here.
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Celeste, Celeste Celeste Celeste.... that was.... ah, the undead girl. The one who preferred safety to fun. Tsk. Fat lot of help she'd be. He couldn't count on anyone else; business as usual.
The hard way it was, then.
"Well, you know. Animal magnetism, what can I say. Any chance of a conjugal visit? I'm certain they miss me." He smirked; it was all just banter now. He'd found out enough for his purposes.
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