Play Your Part

[Rogrim]

A thin trail of colorful smoke ran up between Isosceles fingers, bending around each one gently, like an elegant dancer. As it traced past his extensive nostrils it left a metallic tang with a hint of burning heat from the torch in his hand. Through his goggles he had an excellent view of the small pieces of metal welding together. Sparks glanced harmlessly off of his protective gear, as the metals slowly began to melt and intertwine. The procedure was delicate and steady hands were a must, if each weld were not perfect the structure would collapse under the slightest pressure, totally defeating the purpose of the construct. As with many things, each tiny component determined the stability of the greater whole. Just like Marn, every citizen doing his or her part to help maintain the society, some more than others. Isosceles was proud to do his part, although he would be the first to admit he was not exactly sure what it was.

A loud hiss brought Isosceles attention quickly back to the work at hand, he had fouled up a weld in his reverie. Smiling despite his failure Isosceles killed his torch and started shedding his protective gear. He tossed his failure onto a heaping pile of scrap metal. Gathering himself Isosceles stood from his workbench, sighing deeply. As an engineer failure was something to take in stride, it meant a lesson learned and a superior attempt next time. However, as a politician failures consequence was on a totally different level, failure meant economic collapse, rebellion, poverty, and death. Isosceles smiled again, glad his citizens were chunks of metal, his officials chemicals and tools.

Moving through the heaping piles of organized chaos that were his workshop Isosceles carefully chose his footing, heading towards his storefront. It was still early, and Isosceles could see bands of light playing through his front windows. Only a handful of people were in the streets at this hour, but soon enough business would pick up. Someone would need something fixed, or built. He glanced around his show room, making sure all his merchandise was in place. Neat little piles contrasted with the mess that was his workshop. Plopping himself down behind his front desk he picked up a tiny metal puzzle toy which he gave out to children and began solving it for the thousandth time. He would do his part.

[Daq Bekkar]

Daq was having trouble following what was going on. He was being held close to being in control of his body, close enough that his features would be visible, and that meant he could see and hear, sharing with Morax the experience of moving. At regular intervals, though, he felt himself being shoved aside. He had struggled against this the first few times, but he eventually learned to relax, rolling back and forth between consciousness and oblivion. It reminded him of the few times he had gone to the sea north of Zaekonspire, where he had simply lain back and allowed himself to float, body rising up and down with the great undulations of the cold water. Perhaps it wasn't the experience of drifting consciousness that reminded him of that sea. Perhaps it was seeing her. She had been with him then.

Daq tried to focus on the path, but each stretch of the road seemed different from the last, as if Morax was dodging into side-streets and not showing him. He recognized the districts, though. Morax had directed him to these streets before, running the various alchemical errands that kept his lab funded and operational. He wondered what would become of the business--if Morax would have the patience to keep up the charade of honest living. His current errand made that seem dubious at best.

Morax was headed toward an unfamiliar end of the business district, where the shops seemed more specialized, industrial even. He stopped outside of a small shop attached to a workshop. Multicolored smoke rose from the ventilation stacks. For the first time, Daq got a taste of Morax's unique abilities. Out of the melange of chemicals that composed the acrid smell of the strange smoke, the names, compositions, and functionalities of hundreds of individual chemicals began to spring into his head. It was overwhelming, and when Morax flicked his tongue into the air a few times, it only got worse. Daq worried that he would soon be visualizing the chemical makeup of the wood, the cobblestones, and the fetid puddles all around him.

"We've arrived," he heard his voice announce. It was strange to hear his own voice saying things he had not willed it to say. His hand reached out and pushed the door open. A bell rang. His legs moved him inside. Daq tried to will his arm to reach out and hold the door for Pagusel, but it didn't heed him.

The gnome at the counter. Speak to him about our arrangement. According to the literature, his name is Isosceles. Tell him that we have found a use for his S-12 compound, and that we can provide him with an appropriate primary explosive for its detonation.

An uncomfortable feeling rose across his entire body, like waking up to having slept on an arm. Daq lurched forward awkwardly and extended his hand in greeting to the gnome.

"Er--Hello. I'm.. uhh.. I'm.." he started awkwardly, not really sure if he was to introduce himself as Daq or Morax. "I'm here... because I have a business proposal for you. I've.. uhh.. found an opportunity for you to.. employ your compound.. S-12 I think its called? That's what the.. err.. literature called it. I can also furnish you with uhh.."

A primary explosive.

"With a primary explosive. How does that sound?"

[Pagusel]

Pagusel was still sedated, to a degree. She walked more or less alongside her companion. Occasionally she'd get a few paces ahead of him to allow herself a few moments to gaze curiously down an unfamiliar alleyway off their route. She anticipated his path when she could, and when she had her doubts as to which fork he'd take, she'd hang a step behind.

At the moments when Pagusel drew close to Daq, she gave him brief stares. Her face was blank when she looked at him, and would quickly furrow into interest as soon as she moved on to eye everything else around.

She was, at least, still sedated. It was this fact that kept her from recoiling outright when she saw Daq mark the air with the tip of his tongue. His lack of interest in conversation was also not lost on her--she was subdued, but not blind or deaf. After Pagusel caught that disconcerting sight, she remained several paces behind him for the rest of their journey.

Presently, they arrived. "We've arrived," said that voice. The door nearly shut on Pagusel as he walked on ahead. A coolness fell over her face. She pushed the door open for herself, with her shoulder, and the bell rang a second time.

Unlike Daq, Pagusel did not approach the counter. She lingered by the door. The elbow-shaped peaks under her cloak indicated her arms were folded over her chest. She swayed ever so slightly where she stood as the stale echo of the shop's bell hung over her.

Standing there in the background to Daq's inept attempt to engage the gnome, her face stony, her posture stiff, Pagusel appeared like some sort of unlikely silent henchman. Her eyebrows twitched slightly as Daq's speech patterns returned to something familiar, but she distracted herself by training her gaze on the gnome.

[Rogrim]

The familiar tone of the door chime brought Isosceles attention up from his tiny puzzle, which he had been moments away from finishing. The visitor lurched forward awkwardly, as if unsure whether or not to step forward. Isosceles caught the metallic odor of chemicals about the man, who looked a little rough around the edges. The man approached him slowly, a strange look in his fluid eyes. Isosceles attention was briefly diverted back to the door, as a woman shrouded in a cloak entered. She stayed by the door, and met Isosceles curious gaze with a placid, unchanging look of her own.

"Er--Hello. I'm.. uhh.. I'm.." The man began, stumbling between words, "I'm here... because I have a business proposal for you. I've.. uhh.. found an opportunity for you to.. employ your compound.. S-12 I think its called? That's what the.. err.. literature called it. I can also furnish you with uhh.."

Again he paused notably, before finishing his sentence, "With a primary explosive. How does that sound?"

Isosceles stopped and thought for a moment, S-12 was an outdated recipe of his, while much more powerful, it was also far too unstable. The man most likely meant his most recent concoction, S-17, five formula alterations more advanced. And he wanted to provide the primary chemical reactant? The two looked a tad shady, but business was business.

Isosceles put on a large smile and shook the mans hand earnestly, “That sounds interesting, but im sure you mean S-17, series 12 is far outdated. I will need to analyze the primary component you wish to supply, to make sure its compatible. Also, if you wish to buy any more than a very small amount of S-17 you will need a permit. If all of that is acceptable I would love to hear more about this opportunity you speak of!”

Isosceles shifted in his seat slightly and looked at the woman again, “Milady, are you with this gentleman or is their something I can help you with?”

[Daq Bekkar]

Daq could half-feel Pagusel's presence lingering behind him, and this made him uncomfortable. He'd have much preferred if she had stood in front of him.. or at least at his side. But he had to focus. The entire matter, permits and reagent compatibility, had gotten more complicated than he had initially expected. Morax usually wasn't one to have outdated information and formulate half-baked plans.

"I.. uhh. Well the chemical I was proposing was... uhh," he said, drawing things out. Help me out here.

Call it TATP. Triacetone Peroxide. Tell him you'd be using it to make a blasting cap.

"TATP. Triacetone Peroxide.. We uhh.. We can use it in a blasting cap to set off the S17.. an initial explosion, you know? I'm guessing that.. that your S12-er-17 is a secondary explosive. It needs something to set it off, right?"

Daq looked at his boots. They were still crusted a bit from the mud he had traipsed through to get to town. That job felt like it'd happened a million years ago. There were other questions to be addressed, but he wasn't entirely sure what to do with them. The 'with this gentleman' bit and all of its implications, he decided, would be best left to Pagusel for her to phrase the answer however she felt most comfortable. But the permit business.. he'd have to handle that.

"As for the permits.. We.."

This'd better be good. Morax warned him. The familiar coldness of his tone awakened something in Daq, perhaps by putting all of his anxieties into perspective. Daq thought back to what Morax had told him about the nature of their intended victim's activities, and began to construe how their break-in and burglary might be considered a public service.

"We don't have any. This isn't a government sanctioned matter. It's a matter of justice--social and personal," Daq said, approaching the counter and lowering his voice. "I am what some might call a terrorist, but I don't like that term. I am very careful that no innocents come to harm. My targets are well selected, small but meaningful goals. And this is the most important of any thing I have done in my life. I trust you have heard of the Battlemages--wild men employed by the government to run amok under the guise of 'keeping order?'"

Leaning on the counter and trying to repress the urge to pace and make wild hand gestures, Daq continued, "Well let me tell you about one of the worst of them, a man by the name of Melagone. He is a necromancer who turns men into corpses with a flick of his wrist. He keeps prisoners to sacrifice to his black arts and rends the flesh from their bones to make ghosts. We intend to break into his compound and take from him the reagents he requires to do these dark deeds, so that he might, for awhile at least, be stopped from instilling so much fear and suffering in Marn's oppressed populace."

Daq smirked a little bit. He'd really done well, he thought. In his moment of brief euphoria, he even turned to glance back at Pagusel. He nodded at her.

"Isn't that right?" he asked.

[Pagusel]

When Isosceles asked if Pagusel was with Daq, or could he help her otherwise, she responded vaguely with a glance away from him and a wave of her fingers through the air. It was sort of an international sign for never-you-mind, but her expression was so distracted that it would be hard to take the gesture as a deliberate insult. In a city like Marn, with its moderate diversity, Pagusel wasn't exactly a bizarre sight, but she managed to stand out from a crowd even in her muted tones. Her cloak, the hem of which fell against her thighs, was sewn of the skin of a strange foreign dark beast. The very hint of her suede short pants peeked out from beneath the shaggy hem of her cloak, but lower than that she was almost completely bare, save for her shiny old leather sandals, and the fine thorny tattoos that wove sparsely around her legs.

The focus left Pagusel's eyes as she seemed to withdraw mentally from the situation. The predictable stumbles in Daq's stilted speech were almost enough to comfort her. Her chin lowered and listed slightly to one side. Something pulled her attention back: "I am what some might call a terrorist . . ."

His comments seemed to intrigue Pagusel and please her, in a way. She narrowed her eyes with interest and lifted her chin, as if an improvement in posture would afford a better look at the man standing right before her. The corners of her mouth turned up a bit.

He turned to her after a moment and would be able to see her smiling. He asked her a question, wanting her to confirm for the gnome what sort of motives they had. A flicker of surprise lit her features and raised her eyebrows. She hadn't been asked for her complicity in confirming any sort of tall tale beforehand.

After a pause, she spoke. "I'm afraid you may have forgotten what you have and haven't shared with me," she said quietly. She caught sight of the euphoria in Daq's eyes and returned his look with a curious one--not a suspicious or inquisitive look, but simply curious, perhaps intrigued.

[Rogrim]

The woman who had just entered passed off what Isosceles said with a flick of her wrist and nonchalant move of the head. She really was an odd lady, very foreign in appearance. Her habits and demeanor were also out of place, and in comparison to Isosceles’ they were just out right opposite.

The strange man in front of him began explaining his situation more clearly, continually losing and finding his train of thought sporadically. TATP was a chemical he had used before, not the standard, but it was sufficiently effective. The conversation suddenly became far more interesting as the man declared himself a terrorist. Isosceles perked up, now eager to absorb every word. He hated the word terrorist as well; some would use it to describe him, for trafficking illegal magic users to freedom. But just because ones ideas were radical does not make them good.

The man came closer, seemingly very caught up in his explanation, "Well let me tell you about one of the worst of them, a man by the name of Melagone. He is a necromancer who turns men into corpses with a flick of his wrist. He keeps prisoners to sacrifice to his black arts and rends the flesh from their bones to make ghosts. We intend to break into his compound and take from him the reagents he requires to do these dark deeds, so that he might, for awhile at least, be stopped from instilling so much fear and suffering in Marn's oppressed populace."

All of this rolled into Isosceles’ significant mind, seeping down into the crevices as he churned it over. He had heard of the Battlemages, and of their tendencies to place themselves above justice. This was a bit extreme, definitely a story worth considering. Either way Isosceles had to some how figure out whether or not to trust the man. And his goal did not seem to match his motive. If the man was willing to take such risky actions, would not he at least guarantee a more impacting effect?

His speech cut off as his leaned back to look at the woman, "Isn't that right?".

Isosceles turned his focus back to the lady, I'm afraid you may have forgotten what you have and haven't shared with me," she said, barely audible.

This conversation just seemed to get more and more interesting as it continued to expand; Isoceles’ was not quite sure what to say. He was what some might call a political activist, but he had never taken actions as forward or violent as this. Perhaps it was time for him to take a greater role, but capture meant the loss of everything he had worked for. If they were going to do this, they would have to do it right.

“Why not level the entire facility, and save the prisoners as well?”, Isosceles inquired, his mind in over driving trying to predict different outcomes.

[Daq Bekkar]

Daq was intrigued by Pagusel's slight smile, and he had just begun to feel himself blush when he found himself disconnected from his consciousness again. He waited what felt like a good half-minute in the darkness, and when he returned, he found himself in the process of turning to face Rogrim again. Daq was almost certain that Morax had pushed him aside to shoot Pagusel an angry glare with his frighteningly yellow eyes, perhaps to remind her that she had promised cooperation. Daq knew from experience that Morax was, despite his difficulty understanding emotions, a rather sensitive fellow, likely to take offense at Pagusel undercutting Daq's efforts, even though it hadn't been purely intentional.

But Daq had other things to worry about--Isosceles was talking to him again. Fortunately, it didn't seem like he had missed any of the conversation. Or, if he had, he was able to answer the question being posed without the help of context. He was able to answer it, but it still gave him pause. The question of why he didn't do more--why he didn't level the facility--threatened to cast his motives in an ugly light. If not answered correctly, and.. at this point.. quickly, it might become clear that his mission wasn't quite altruistic at heart.

"Well--ah--that's a very fine question.. one that I've grappled with myself at times.. You see, that was my original consideration.. Why not level the facility, save the prisoners?" Daq started, rambling a bit to buy himself some time to think. "But there are.. ah.. multiple reasons.. why that might not work, and.. among them.. among them two come to mind at this instant--forgive me for not having the rest at hand, but it's a terribly complicatedly.. er.. thought-out plan that I--uh--have here--but these two are probably the most important, so..."

Daq leaned on the counter again and raised his hand. One of his fingers shot up. "One: the more drastic the action, the more the battlemages will--er--pursue the matter, and if they were to find us, well.. then.. that would mean the end of all of this that we're doing, and, well, that's no good, so we want to use the S12--err--S17 as a distraction and not to blow the whole thing sky-high."

His second finger shot up, and there was a short pause before Daq continued. "Two is that, well, we are.. uh.. 'attacking' I guess you could say.. while the Necromancer is otherwise diverted, you see.. According to my source, he's just run out of prisoners.. people to work on, so he's also.. yeah.. engaged outside his compound, you see? It's really the prime time to do this, and I think any sort of.. just.. minor.. but a little more than minor.. you know.. significant still.. anyway.. minor but significant disruption that we can make would be.. would still be.. uhh.. nice."

He held his hand up like that, two fingers comically extended, for an awkwardly long time before realizing that it was no longer necessary. He dropped his hand to his side abruptly. Quickly, he glanced behind him, curious to see if Pagusel was still smiling, or if Morax had done something.. upsetting.

[Pagusel]

When Morax turned to look at Pagusel, she had one foot placed slightly before the other, whereas before she posture had been highly symmetrical. It looked as if she was considering stepping forward, but when Morax's yellow stare landed on her, she pulled her foot back to meet the other in an understated sort of recoil.

Her small smile didn't disappear, so to speak. The line of her mouth merely stiffened where it lay, and the resulting stony smile may as well have been a cold twist of wire for all the sincerity it held. Pagusel displayed again her ability to be asymmetrical, with the arch of her right eyebrow only. The better to deflect Morax's angry sneer.

Her gaze moved past Morax to the gnome at the counter. She wanted to see his reaction when the man turned back around, whether he could revert to Daq's features quickly. He seemed to be arousing enough suspicion already, for the gnome had raised some sort of question related to the Daq's motives. When he did turn, the stranger didn't appear surprised by Daq's face.

Pagusel tilted her head thoughtfully as Daq stumbled his way through another explanation of the scale of his terrorism. He looked back at her and Pagusel saw Daq was there again. She pursed her lips thoughtfully and nodded once. She even took that small step forward, though to no obvious destination.

"Yes, I suppose we're all caught up then," she said huskily, almost a sound as if she were choked-up. "I should like to get around to doing something so that we may all achieve the results we are pursuing sooner than later. That is, if we are all understanding the situation now?" Her terseness might at least result in something like peer pressure on one or the other of them, and maybe Morax would even appreciate her attitude.

[Rogrim]

Isosceles was amazed by this turn in events, he never expected his day would turn out so exciting! The man before him had a very strange mix of enthusiasm and uncertainty. He had ready, if choppy, answers for his questions. The interactions between the two were equally puzzling, they seemed to be at odds, and yet some how working together. The plan was definitely flawed, this man seemed to want to do good, but was confused how to do it best. He was not exactly sure of the woman's role yet. He guessed their was much communicated between the two in their tiny subtle changes in body language, which Isosceles could detect, but not yet decipher.
After the explanation, the woman stepped forward and seemed to give her approval on the agreement, suggesting moving forward with the plans. Isosceles still had a lot of questions to ask, and suggestions to give.
Isosceles' mouth opened to talk but just hung their for a moment, he was not quite sure how to put what he wanted to say into words without being rude. The man did seem to have some decent motivations, to stop a corrupt battlemage, but he didn't seem to have the courage to take appropriate actions to fit his goals. Perhaps a little ingenuity and fresh courage to his cause could stir him to greater action.
"Maybe its time for more action than you think! If we formulate the plan well, expand it and add detail we may be able to have a much greater effect on the battlemages. Someone of such power would be able to easily replace a reagent, how expensive could it be? If we could find a way to more permanently shut down his operation it would not only have short term effects, but it would send a message! Think of what we could accomplish!"
Isosceles hopped down from his seat and walked around the counter, stretching his legs and feeling his heart race. This was exciting. He thought of the possibilities, all he needed was someone to spur the idea in him! Comrades to help him start resisting oppression. This could work.
"What do you say! We could do it, sure it starts here, but think what it could blossom to! In time we could be the forefront against corruption!" Isosceles' turned to face the two, a fire alight in his shining eyes. Maybe he was the courage these noble people needed.

[Daq Bekkar]

Morax had finally grown impatient of the way Daq was handling things. Without regard to how the others would react to the sudden change of demeanor, he pushed Daq aside and assumed control.

Pushing away from the counter, he straightened up to Daq's full height. Six feet wasn't ordinarily imposing, but to a gnome just over half that tall, he imagined it might be. He flared his nostrils and inhaled sharply. Taking his time exhaling, he stared in silence at the gnome with his newly-yellow eyes for what might have seemed like an awkward time to someone gifted with any sort of social intuition.

"It would indeed send a message." he said flatly. "But we would be sending it to the sorts of people one oughtn't send messages to. To put it plainly, it is quite an expensive reagent, and we are unwilling to take any risks beyond what is necessary to secure it. As my.. colleague.. put it, everyone should be 'all caught up' on the general details of what the plan entails. I do not wish to deviate from it. Changes will be made as necessary once things are put into motion, but otherwise, we may consider it set in stone."

"I would like to echo her desire for action," Morax said. He tilted his head at a strange angle, so that he could both look at and indicate Pagusel over his right shoulder. "I presume we would be ready to leave as soon as you could assemble your things. That is, assuming that you are interested in the plan as it stands."

Morax pursed his mouth, clicked his tongue against his bottom teeth, and then turned the reigns back over to Daq, who, having been shoved too far aside to have observed what had transpired, was too out-of-the-loop to really add anything more. He would simply stand quietly, awaiting a response.

[Pagusel]

Pagusel stared at the bold gnome as he walked around. There was something about his very stride that seemed inflated--perhaps it was just the different angles involved in the movement of his short legs and his slightly stouter body structure, but there was nothing ironic about the sense of eagerness and defiance he gave. Even not controlling for stature, he was the most audacious in the room. Pagusel's lips twitched upward at the edges, but this was not a smile of mirth. She appeared satisfied.

Her satisfaction darkened when Morax turned to look at her. There was some back and forth, apparently, between the gnome and Morax as to what the plan was. Pagusel was not paying much attention to this either way, because the plan as she had understood was that Daq was going to be present, and it seemed he was out of the picture at the moment. As far as she was concerned, things were not going according to plan, and she would take only small tokens that satisfied her as they came.

A tight wince segued her expression into poorly disguised alarm several moments into Morax's speaking. It was his look, combined with a poor word choice--"desire"--that had her alarmed thus. To combat that crooked-head look, Pagusel stiffened visibly. It was how Daq would find her when he returned to the conscious world, and also why she wouldn't readily notice his change.

"Well, I guess we'll begin now then," she said, although there was no note of finality to her sentence--a string of words with no over-arcing intonation. Pagusel blinked at the gnome and turned towards the door. "My name's Pagusel," she said into the door as she pushed on the handle and took a step outside.

[Rogrim]

Instead of answering questions the gentlemen before him only raised more. Along with a rapid change in eye color came a total flip-flop of temperament. He went from genuine, eager, and relatively personable, to determined, rash, and aggressive with the yellowing of his eyes. Isosceles fire was only slightly diminished by the sudden change, he was caught of guard but not extinguished. The gentlemen did not want any changes in his plan, for whatever reasons. Perhaps Isosceles ideas were too rash, sometimes a small rock’s delicates ripples would cause more change than a boulders uncalculated splash. Beggers can’t be choosers, he thought.

Just as the man had begun he seemed to exhale all his newfound aggressive energy. As if a wave washed over his body, carrying it away in the tide. Just as interesting was the ladies response to the whole situation. At first she tilted so slightly to something Isosceles might call happiness, but it quickly firmed up and almost snapped back to her former demeanor as the mans eyes yellowed. This truly was an odd couple.

"Well, I guess we'll begin now then," she said, in a voice devoid of emotion. The woman then spared a moment to look at Isosceles, her gaze only broken by a quick blink, "My name's Pagusel,” the lady said as she opened the door.

Isosceles was enamored for some reason, as if the statement was one of affection. He felt his lips form her name without command. Shaking off the feeling Isosceles turned back to the strange gentlemen and spoke in a calm determined voice, “It will be done, if you like you can assist, or observe, while I formulate the explosive.”

[Daq Bekkar]

Daq looked at Pagusel and saw her standing stiffly before she spoke. Strangely, he thought he was feeling a certain degree of intuition, as if he had improved at reading her composure. The flatness of her intonation didn't bother him, but something about her stance made her seem more unsettled than usual. He was torn. On one hand, it was good that she seemed to be distancing herself from him. He didn't want her to come to get into any trouble. At the same time, Daq felt bad about seeing her upset and watching her drift away. With his full attention focused on Pagusel, he hardly heard what the gnome had said to him.

He turned to look at Isosceles with a bit of a startled look on his face. There was a little guilt to it, too.

"I--uhh. It's your explosive," Daq said softly, much in contrast to the way Morax had spoken before. "I don't... I don't know a terrible lot about it. So I'll.. I think I'm gonna go check on her. Please come join us outside as soon as your things are ready. Excuse me."

With that, Daq turned to exit. The door chimed as he opened it, but he still tried to close it quietly behind him, apparently intent on not making more of a stir. Walking out, he kept his head down, deep in thought, trying to reach a decision of what action to take. Morax only wanted him to ensure that all parties would be holding up their end of the bargain, but Daq had other concerns. He wanted to keep them private, but he didn't really know how to obscure parts of himself like Morax did, so he could only hope that Morax wouldn't pry. As soon as he stepped out onto the cobblestones of the street in front of the shop, Daq reached an impulsive decision about what to do.

"I've upset you," he said. "I'm sorry."

Only after he'd said those words did it occur to him that Pagusel might not have been waiting just outside, where she could hear them. Daq looked up from the ground he was focusing on to look for her, hoping she hadn't just vanished like she had done several times before.

[Pagusel]

Outside the shop, Pagusel paused to wait and to make a decision on a vaguely-formed premise. She pressed her shoulderblades against the wall beside the door and lowered her eyes discretely, as if to view the shallow ridge of her cheekbones. She stood there, unblinking, for several moments before her hand, beneath her cloak, crept to the waistband of her shorts and found the wooden box of pills tucked there. The tip of her thumb ran along the fine seam between the vessel and its lid.

Pagusel tipped her head deeply to one side to produce a satisfying stretch of her neck. Her eyes narrowed as she appreciated the nuance of each fiber flexing and the articulation of her vertebrae between those muscles. She relaxed her neck and blinked at the mud beneath her feet, ever so slightly wistful. She couldn't let herself disappear just now, and had to force herself to enjoy the form she was in, so as to keep her wits about.

She didn't catch the sight or even the sound of Daq's exit. It was the tactile sensation--a warm puff of stale indoor air licked at her hair and tickled her cheek. She turned her face to Daq. He looked so somberly distraught that Pagusel felt a strange inclination to become irate and pouty. The sensation passed like the flicker of a sunbreak.

"I've upset you. I'm sorry."

Pagusel felt her lips tighten against her teeth. She hadn't fallen to that urge to have a mood, but he still said such a thing. "You have two very different personalities . . ." She sounded as if she would have added a personal address to the end of that sentence, but trailed off before she could decide. " . . . Neither of which I find ingratiating at this juncture," she finished instead.

Pagusel's eyelashes fluttered as if she were surprised with her own ability to blink. A swell in her chest forced her to turn to face Daq fully, and something like sympathy tried to find its way from her eyes. "I don't think you should allow yourself to be usurped," she explained. "Not for my sake, but for your own . . . however, I shouldn't care for your company if you can't care for it yourself."

A pale blush rose to Pagusel's cheeks, and she snapped her head away from Daq to watch the door intently for Rogrim's exit.