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.