Almost. Almost, he thought, again and again as a rehearsal, as an agent or narcotic. Judace's face was three wide stripes of dark, red blood. Only a tiny triangle under his left eye and pieces under his chin showed white flesh. His jacket was torn in six places on his back; five long, driving slashes, and one puncture. The boy was crawling, and he feared that both his knees were powder. A great many things ran through him—-first and foremost: Will I even make it' Afterthoughts include, Will I Walk Again? Did That Just Happen" Almost, he thinks, but Martyr's home was too far away. The trail of blood behind tallied off a distance of no greater than fifteen yards, and this was taken in thirty minutes. Only his elbows propulsed him, on knifing jar at a time, and he was gaining no ground whatsoever. Judace smiled, but no one would see under the blood. The boy passes out near the mouth of the alley—-he had, if nothing else, managed to stick his arm out of the throat and onto the sidewalk. Maybe the chap would get lucky.

Phoenix had been wandering, as she often did. She'd noticed the smell of blood far quicker than she had the hand—otherwise she might have wrote it off as an alley-drunk. Why did it seem so familiar" The immortal swiped her bangs from her face as she moved a bit faster. Curiousity drove her to investigate, and so she did. Moving for that alley, she knelt down toward the body and her eyes narrowed. "Judace....I'm going to beat her senseless for this..." Lifting him, she threw him over her shoulder and headed not towards Martyr's, but towards that hell known as a warehouse.

"Queen, I believe we are out of Tea. I like the tangerine. I shall go get some." Nodding stoically as always, the Playing-House hellioness rose from their little table in the secluded back room. It had been about a week since the application of Phoenix's blood, and although Aggie did not verbally indicate, Nazareth was sure that her sight was again waning. Because of this, Neth's mood had been in decline the last two evenings. She slips through the door of her warehouse, the usual ensemble of trousers and turtleneck, but, airing on the side of fashion, she sported a long, leather overcoat. She sets off.

"Be safe," Agnus whispered as Nazareth took her leave. Her sight was giving way, and she had kept quiet about it. Why not fake it as long as she could" Convince herself that she was happy....Foresight was twenty-twenty for young Agnus, unfortunately.

Phoenix held the young dominion on her shoulder. She could have healed him—and she would have, but she wanted to Make Nazareth look at what she'd done.....Like a dog that made waste on the carpet. Picking up the pace, the tall woman headed in Neth's direction.

Neth pauses. Dominion blood in the air, a set in-fact. Judace was family and easily identified; Phoenix's scent was changing all the time, but the distinctions stood. She travels towards the billowing fronts of blood, too curious to pass them up. Springing a corner, Nazareth halted her boots. Phoenix's image was divulged in the distance. Dominion eyes are not exceptionally sharp, but it was clear that Judace was slung over her shoulder and the smell of his blood flooded her nostrils. Neth approaches with caution now—-it was clear to her that, for whatever reason, Phoenix was seeking her out, just as Neth sought her. At about twenty yards out, Nazareth pauses and pockets her hands in that new, long coat.

Phoenix could feel that she was drawing close, and it had only been apparent that Nazareth had been on a similar mission seconds before they were face-to-face. She propped Judace up against the wall and moved closer to the dominioness. Once in range, she'd attempt to snatch Neth by her pretty little throat and slam her against the wall.

Nazareth had decoded Phoenix's anger before the strike, but made no suave evasive maneuver. After her body hit the wall, the Dominioness grinned, spiky choking fits curling from her separated lips as the powerful immortal held her neck in a vice grip. As if surrendering, Nazareth lifted her arms slightly. "I—-I—-Know—-What—-You think——"

The strangely concerned Dominioness shrugs and drops her hands into her pockets. "It is what I gather. I am no analyst, I've just been around enough carnage to belay a little bit of intellect to my assumptions. As I said, this shitty world is full of all sorts of sneaky powers. I guess the biggest indicator is Judace himself—-I mean, look at him—-He obviously isn't rich, so it wasn't a robbery, and if it were some random act, I believe the attacker would have just killed him. Fix him up, and we'll hope he awakes soon."

Moving in to that very special place in her boot, the half breed grabbed out the knife and cut into her hand. Finding an open wound, she replenished the boy then and there. "Why...are you so curious as to what happened" I figure of all people..you'd do a dance on the poor kids grave."

"Don't pretend to assume that you understand our relationship," she said, turning away from the ugly union. Despite using Slane blood herself, she still found the procedure abominous. "I did what I could to toughen Judace up. If I wanted to kill him, I would have. I do not wish to see my flesh and blood torn up by some freak of this realm. We will wake him, he will tells us who did it, and we, or I if you are not willing, will find and destroy them."

Judace's shoulders began to writhe and twist as the blood coursed through his system to administer repair to muscle, tendon and nerve. As Nazareth had observed, the slashes were barely skin-deep, save the puncture that had been the true knock-out blow. He groans, but does not awake just yet, and curls into a pitiful ball.

Phoenix watched him curl and sat back on her hands. "I'm in." The immortal whispered, letting those beautiful eyes fall to her knees even as they curled up to touch her chest. Despite the fact that her blood had worked wonders on Judace, her own hand wasn't healing up.

Neth turns around and awaited Judace's recovery. It did not appear as though he would snap-up as soon as she wished, so those large, cold crimson eyes relax on Phoenix. "You're so much different," she said, grinning mysteriously. "I smell strange things on you. Your soul is just as vibrant as ever, but your body—-it smells—-" She did not have the word, but it almost reminded her of the soft, white scent of a graveyard.

"I know, alright?" Phoenix snapped. "Before you go all Detective Neth, I'll cut you off at the knees. I got knocked up, and now I've got something growing inside of me. Happy?" The immortal asked and folded her arms one over another.

Nazareth scowls. "You're—-" Short on words, a fulgent anger ripened all the wrong angles of her sharp, triangular face. It was jealousy, but she could never say; not that she had the ability to impregnate Phoenix, but there was never any one other than Phoenix that Nazareth could picture herself hand-in-hand with. Not that they had ever strolled hand-in-hand, but even the bellicose Dominioness had needs. She folds her arms and turns away. "Fool," she spat. "Stupid fool."

A body of text was scribbled in a neat square in the page adjacent to Judace's sketch of Val. It had a list of physical attributes, know abilities, relatives (yes, he was that thorough) and a recent entry about Martyr and Max. Below the last line, the words 'Recently retu—-' were freshly scripted, and from the long, strange pencil mark that jaggedly flew away from 'retu' like a lightning bolt, it was clear that some trauma had broken Judace's entry.

Judace did not get very far. Nazareth flashed in front of him, causing his sneakers to give out as he leaned into a hard braking maneuver. The heels slide out and Judace plunges onto his rear end. Nazareth scoops him up by his collar without effort and, without saying a word, calmly leads him back to Phoenix. The way she saw it, if the boy was unwilling to talk to his friend 'Rixy', he sure as shootin' wouldn't divulge anything to her.

Phoenix lifted the book and waved it in his direction, holding it by the bindings. "Valcroix..?" The immortal asked with a narrow gaze. "You're going to talk Judace....You know I'm strong, so let me help you.."

Nazareth relinquished her hold and Judace fell down on his heels, which gave out and caused a stumble that, much to his dismay, sent him toppling toward the notebook Phoenix had split open and proposed. He finds his footing and avoids a collision, lifts his eyes guiltily, but is soon rapt by his own notes. He did not clearly remember the bottom entries, but did very much remember what had happened. Kneading his toe into the cement, Judace nodded. That was his only answer.

Neth angled her eyes over Judace's shoulder. She saw the pages, saw the sketch and thinly gathered the words on the adjacent page. Noticing the discriminant struggle with the jagged pencil streaks, Nazareth says aloud, "Recently....returned" Is that what you were writing?"

Judace nods a second time, turns away from the woman and lightly rams his head into the wall. He pulls back his head, then lowers it forward a second time, bashing his forehead into the wall with a great frustration.

This time, it's Phoenix who bunches her fist and snags his collar to pry him away from the wall. "What is it, Judace" Did he attack you? Is he back...?" Neth was right, then....It was someone Judace knew, someone he trusted to a certain degree. "What happened?" She demanded.

Again, the wiry boy was shaken like cottonstuffed figurine. His eyes were locked on the ground, dazed, zombfiied. "He's note the same. . He was always cold to me, but never violent. . he's dressed all weird, like a cleric or something; long cloak and a black cape and all that. . at first I thought it was cool, I even told him I thought it was cool." Judace's eyes rise for Phoenix. "He didn't smile though. I started writing a think. . and he snagged my shoulders, spun me around and. . " These locked eyes moisten. ". . In never felt a pain like that before. . right through my belly. . " Judace's little hands gather the torn area of his torso where the blade had gone through. He weeps silently, his body quaking with that same great fear. ". . he said 'Send her'. . he kept saying it like a robot. . 'Send her, send her, send her'. . He pulled the blade out and cut me a couple more times. He said, 'Mother wants her daughter back'. . "

Judace wraps his arms around Phoenix, squeezes a moment, then turns to Nazareth, arms open and wanting. "C'mon Nethy. . "

"No—-"

Judace frowns and downheartedly begins his low-eyed stroll to Martyr's apartment.

"Wait," Neth calls, and Judace freezes. Smiling cattily, she jerks her head down the street. "You know where I live?" Judace nods. "Alright—-if there's anything I know about this Nexus rift insanity, it's that time can become distorted. Two hours in Gailey could translate into four weeks here. Agnus likes you, Judace—-can you do me a very large favor and bring her to Martyr's home" I will be in your debt."

Bursting with excitement, Judace hops over, his arms still open. Nazareth sighs out of her nose and opens up her left hand eeeever so slightly. Judace tucks himself in, smiles, even goes so far as to nuzzle a bit. It's right about there that Neth shoves him away, but the boy was happier than all hell. "Alright! Goin' to get Queeine Aggie," he said to himself, his voice diminishing as he jogged down the block.

Neth points and Phoenix, then begins walking up the street. "You never saw that. And that's not a favor; it's an order, got it?"

"I don't think you're in much of a position to be handing out orders, Nazareth." The Phoenix whispered and then headed off down the street. "Let's get this over-with..." Pulling out her phone, she began to type away.

"Don't start with your superiority," she said, again favoring the deep pockets of that long, dramatic leather trench. The walk out of town would be lengthy one, and Nazareth detested automobiles. Not many words were exchanged. The cross into the wholesome woods outside the city walls, and it's about a mile out of town before Neth bothered speaking again. "Well—are you not curious why I'm helping you? What do I have to gain by springing Mother's trap?"

"Not really..." The immortal mumbled, and shrugged. "I mean, it could be a number of things. Obviously, it has to do with your own personal gain—mixed with 'mommy issues,' and I'm guessing your insatiable curiousity..." Phoenix smiled softly "But do tell."

Grinning snidely, Nazareth tips her chin. "Very cute, pretty girl, and you're not all wrong. Those words: 'She wants her daughter back'—-I'm not foolish enough to think that she's referring to me. Mother detests me, I've come to terms with it. It can only mean one of two things—-that she calls you 'daughter', or that Pilot is somehow involved. I don't know how,but your appearance and power let-on a few clues. But this is trivial. Want to know why I'm going?" Darting eyes drive right into her flawless companion's. "I'm going to kill Maetron. Judace is not dumb. . she gave you a new body I hear, and it made her frail. Our only obstacle is Val. We clear him, Maetron is done for. It can't be too hard."

Neth bent over and collected the earring. "Now who's the one who won't shut up," she said, walking away to examine the formation of stone. Val's scent was dry and waning with each tug of wind. She could not precisely zero in on his last known location, but if she were to frame the trail of his aroma, it would draw a line straight into mouth of the cave like sliver in the stone. She approaches it, squints and taps her foot. With her left hand curled around the earring, she reaches into the pitch black cut and smiles. "Heh. . amazing. It's warm. . "

The immortal took away from her lazy lean and put her hands on her hips. "We going to gawk or we going to get this done? I have better things to do than to sit around and play detective with you, you know.." Those better things consisted of eating. She liked doing that...

Neth's left hand was still submerged in the darkness of the cavemouth. With her body slanted slightly sidelong, she extends her right and looks down, Phoenix's way. "C'mere then. My arm is in Gailey right now. Now sure what will happen if I go in without you, so take my hand."

Phoenix opts to take her rangy little wrist in place of the hand. It seemed to intimate for her liking to take the hellion by the hand. These weren't old times, they'd both grown, and Neth was kind of a cunt and a fucking half. "Let's go."

Wasting no more time, Nazareth drives into the thick shade of the mystic crack in the stone. When her hand had slipped through there had been no resistance, only the familiar arid air and the redhot winds. Once inside the mouth of the cave there was nothing but dry blackness. It was not darkness, like a room after dark without a window—it was blackness, like a hole in death, like a door in the midnight sky. Nazareth wanted to scream as her body felt out of place, out of dimension, as if she were in water, struggling to move. And then, effortlessly, her eyes open and there was no more blackness, no more cave or lagging appendages. There were the whorls of thin, sharp grains on the wind and a desert expanse. "Oh. . So long it has been."

Phoenix's gaze narrowed. This is what he became....This is what she let him become by welcoming Maetron's presence....The immortal scoffed out her frustrations and shook her head. Side by side with Nazareth, she matches her steps and continues.

A pair of very white hands materialize from the drapery and tug down the hood. Val's face had not changed very much; his hair was a little longer, a little wilder and a slick shade of stubble colored his sharp jaw. The behaviors and mechanics of his face were night-and-day, however. His eyes were not scrutinizing squints, they were observant bulbs. His mouth was not a firm line, it was slightly ajar, ready and questioning. He appeared younger, but in spirit alone. "Nazareth," he whispered to himself. According to mother's plan, he was to expect Judace and a blonde woman with the powers of a Dominion. Nazareth was not part of the deal. But he was overjoyed. "Nazareth, Nazareth," he began, smiling, stepping down from the porch. "Welcome home. I was hoping I would never see your angry face again."

His changes were obvious, and Nazareth was not surprised. "Likewise. Once I kill you and mother, it won't be an issue."

Val froze. "Kill—-Mother" Hah. . I would like to think you are joking, but such jokes are not welcome to my ears. Take that back, or you will find me inhospitable."

Neth stopped only a moment. Her boot recovers from stasis, and she continues on slowly. "Then be inhospitable, Valcroix. I'm itching to see what you've got."

Phoenix took a lean against on of the ash-trees and waited for the bickering siblings to finish up their spat. She relaxed and sighed softly. "He's a total momma's boy now....Remember when you used to be like that, Neth..." It'll make it so much more satisfying to murder him now..." Fingers wiggled lightly, and she watched the armor creeping over the tips.

Neth was up for no more talking. Ten yards out, she pounced, full-speed and a fist drawn back.

Val assumed a posture of defense, turning to the side, giving her less of a target. His arm extends and the long, flowing sleeve of his cloak extended mysteriously. It cruised towards Nazareth quickly, and all at once the girl brought both arms in front in shape of an 'X'. Val had turned the ends of the sleeve into a ring of thin steel. When it crashes into Nazareth's arms, the collision was at such high speed that Neth's forward progress was halted instantly and she hung in the air, repulsing the ironed sleeve. She drops and hops back, and Val's clothes slither back to their original form. He looks to Phoenix. "You. You're the carrier, yes" Mother does not wish me to engage you. She seeks an audience with you, but Nazareth is not permitted on these grounds."

"Phoenix," the girl said, examining the undersides of her elbows to see if any damage had been done. Tiny strikes of blood were visible, but the cuts were not deep. "If you go into that house, you're not going to come out. If it were a month ago, I'd say you'd be fine, but this is their home. Val is extremely familiar with this element—-stick to the original plan."

Trust Nazareth, or Val..." Had there ever been a harder choice? It was like being asked if she'd rather have a semi dropped on her, or a bus....Phoenix cracked her knuckles, "I've never taken orders from you before, Valcroix....I'm not about to start. If she wants me in there, she can come out and get me."

When the outsides of his iron wall began to shred-up, Val was certain that this girl was no Dominion. It was a disadvantage, especially when you add in the fact that there were two of them. Before abandoning the ironed curtain completely, Val places his hand squarely on the center of wall; approximating, he visualized that Phoenix was probably standing just about in the same spot, just on the other side. She would notice a single ball of light for only a minute from her end before it fired out; Val sent a spike from the wall forward, shooting at Phoenix's upper-chest. It was just about here, after he had made his attack, that a pain cracked across his cheek and jaw. Nazareth had cruised up while his guard was down and sent a knee into the side of his face.Val sails several yards, hits the dusty earth and rolls until balance is found on all fours. Caressing his cheek, he scrambled to his feet and backstepped slowly, squinting fiercely at his sister.

And that very sister was admiring the wall, then easily slung her eyes forward at him. "Hmm. . well, this is no fun at all. . "

The spike slammed into her chest, but did not penetrate, it threw her onto her back and she took in a heavy breath and threw the spike away. Phoenix stood, she wavered, already exhausted. The armor chipped away from her as she stumbled about and allowed her eyes that wonderful shade of pink.

"Oh, and look at this. . the big mouth is over here sucking air like she's starving for it." It was Val's turn to reply with surprise. Again, he could not be certain of this woman's abilities, but if nothing else, it appeared as though he had won a few seconds to concentrate on Nazareth, who was snidely grinning at the woman who did not appear to like her very much. The third attempt at his sleeve-knife worked, driving straight into Neth's shoulder. The girl howled furiously and thrashed to remove it, but Val once more acted first by, with great speed, spinning his body 180 degrees, thus reeling in the sleeve like a firehose over the wheel, thus jerking Nazareth forward and onto her knees as the knife was still embedded in her shoulder. "Ahhn! Coward!"

The immortal tried not to collapse, but she was weakening. Those around her were right. It wasn't just her who had to be looked out for now....She bit into her lip, sprinted for the man, and about ten feet from him, she gave it all she had. A blasting attack of pure soul lashed out at him, this time, it was infused with the fire Maetron had gifted her.

Val's eyes had been teetering, but keeping up with Nazareth's tugs was an all-encompassing activity. He had always known her as monstrous physical specimen, but she was literally dragging him backwards by pulling on the sleeve. So it was time to cut his losses and abandon the robe. It was about here that a series of supremely quick-footed steps stamped their way into his ears. Phoenix was charging and Val had next to no time. The ground in front of him flashed, then rose, not quite high enough to shield his body. The idea was to turn it to iron, but she hit his mound mid-shape and caused a reaction even Val was not expecting. Her soul energy, partnered with her Dominion gift collided with the white aura of his shaping and caused a vicious, earth-rattling explosion. Because part of his dirt-wall had become iron, when she shattered it a thousand shards of sharp metal rioted out of the impact area. Val went sailing backwards after the impact with about a dozen bits of shrapnel stuck into his defensively-crossed arms. The dangerous pieces flew out of ground zero like a fragmentation grenade and even Nazareth, who had her palm up to shield her eyes from the fulgent glow of the impact, received several bullets of knifing metal in her arm. Val was not unconscious. He pushed himself off the ground, but his face was severely bloodied. "Damnit. . just what is she. . "

Phoenix fell onto her hands and knees, her body was covered with a slick layer of sweat as she panted and fought to catch lungfuls of breath. She clawed at the sand, she felt as if she were sinking into it, as if she'd drown if not careful. Pink eyes fell shut. "I hate you..." The girl spilled between breaths. "....but Martyr needs you....so knock this off and come home!"

Val glowered as he bent over to scoop up a handful of dirt and debris. He flashed it into a slick looking little blade and scudded to the down woman. Enough was just about enough, and in his heated state, the words of his mother had gone away. Thoughts of Pilot, thoughts of pleasing Maetron all were gone as anger and anger alone consumed him. Val fell onto his knees, just next to Phoenix, and lifted the knife. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about," he growled through his teeth. "I don't know who the hell you are; I don't know a Mar—-tyr..." Martyr. Martyr. In his head, he repeated it. Martyr. Martyr. His fist rattled, because impulse asked reason to drive the knife down and split this hellion's skull. "Eyes...of amethyst. . " His dreams; the ones Maetron had told him were of demons. Back then he did not believe her, and now he was certain. Val's face embraced the horror of memory; they had not returned, but something gave in his belly, a knowing terror that told him that something was very twisted and very much wrong with his being here. He begins to lower the blade, disarmingly, not in a stabbing motion, but before he has the chance to speak again, he is hoisted up by his collar.

Nazareth lifts Val clean off his feet. It was clear that the slow recovery of memory had turned the man sterile for a moment. Grinning wickedly, the girl flicks her wrist and sends the man sailing towards one of the stone columns on the porch. The man gasps in pain as his body cracks off the hard stone. He lands on his side and groans, reaching for his back for fear that she had just broken a great many bones. "Well, fun as this was," she said, bending over to grab the knife he had dropped, "I've never been one for family reunions. But hey," she said, bouncing backwards with a playful smile for Phoenix. "I have to thank the both of you for wasting all your energy beating on each other. As for me? I'm in tip-top shape!"

"Martyr," he spelled with his lips. "And—-Max?" These names were like the shiniest coins in the well, surrounded by a fleet of dull brown tallying falls of Maetron's tongue. Just which fact was harder to digest' Faces emerged under his eyes, but just glimpses; tired sun through the blinds, showing shape but not form. "And. . this woman is pregnant with my child" That can't be! It just can't, I've been here. . I've been with Mother, I've never left her. I wouldn't have. Where. . do they live in Ionosis?" Which was not only the capital of Gailey, but it's only true city.

"They live in a place called Rhy'din." Fishing through her belongings, she picked out her wallet. It had originally belonged to Martyr, and she'd left the picture in it for Phoenix. It was the three of them together. Sitting at the park. If he could recall the day, she'd handed the expensive camera off to a stranger, despite Val's warnings. When the man took the picture, he handed it back with a smile and the girl rang, 'I t-told you so!' for the rest of the day. "That's all of you together...You've not been gone that long, Valcroix." If he accepted the picture, he'd see himself, kneeling down with one arm around the little girl, and one arm around the woman. They both had curly hair, and squinting faces from the sun. The amethyst in their eyes was unmistakable.

It was not the memory of a day. It was not the memory of a park or a stranger handling his pricey camera. It was not even the remembrance of a certain woman's unintentional stammering. It was the brilliant violet eyes of a little girl. It was her puffy little cheeks, it was her swirly curls and tiny smile. It was the woman under his left arm, and a face just as innocent and pure and whose design was not a note short of perfect. Val's fingers open and the picture flutters like a leaf to the ground. His estranged features flee, traded instead for the man he once was; the adult man, the father, the man of business; the husband. Those thin red eyes moisten a moment, but he does not weep. "Phoenix. . "

Phoenix bit into her lip, rolled it around in her vice-grip teeth before looking up at him. Everything about her looked weak, she fell back on her rear and cupped her own stomach now. "You're...welcome.." The girl mumbled softly, and let her eyes fall. She wasn't all bad. She hated that man, but by god did she love those two girls..

Val gives his thanks through a single nod. There was a lot that remained masked in the haze of Maetron's hypnotism, but he was sure that he was married to Caia Martyr Slane, and was sure that he was father to the flawless, bossy and horrifyingly sharp Max Marval. "Why do you look like this," Val asked as he motioned to scoop her up and, barring a struggle, would lift her off the ground.

Nazareth knew enough about Val's abilities to be keen to the fact that when his concentration is broken, it can be a struggle to reanimate his creations. She thought of bursting, of flaring up with everything she had and roll the dice on his reaction time. But Nazareth thought of Agnus. She thought that poor girl's face, where she never to return. Val was not a killer at heart, but she believed that he would pull the trigger if need be. So she kept her eyes closed and her body still.

Phoenix didn't stop him, if only because it wasn't worth the struggle. "I'm the carrier, remember" It has its perks.." Phoenix said with a weak smile. She opened up her dress a bit to show off the dark bruise that was hanging around between her breasts. "And its curses.."

Holding in her want, no, need to call Maetron out on all of her bullshit, Phoenix stared at the ceiling like a good little patient. She folded her hands over her belly and listened to the two converse. Unfortunately, there were no more tricks up her sleeve at the moment, so she waited for her time.

"Ohh. . my family. My family My family has dissolved. ."

Adding her past transgressions with her latest, Val could figuratively join Phoenix in scoffing at the woman's act. Perhaps she did just need him to recover the body, but it was not guarded or in any special place that only he could reach. Long ago as children, Nazareth and Val had stolen the coffin from a camp outside Ionosis. They had buried it, and there it lied for two-hundred-plus years. What was stranger was the inexplainable preservation of the body—-Val had broken the lid off Pilot's coffin this morning—-the girl's body was pristine.

"Val," the woman sighed through tears. Her feeble arm outstretched and rattled sickeningly. "Please, my son. . regardless of what happens, I ask for your forgiveness. It may not be today, it may not be in twenty years. . but I hold nothing in this world in higher regard. You are my world, Valcroix."

Val did not turn. He took one step forward and his hard, silver boot filled the room with thunder. "—-I'm going to get Pilot's body. If your body is so weak, I imagine that moving Pilot's soul will be the final nail. Die with grace, and with purpose, and perhaps I'll find a way to forgive you." He disappears, leaving the women alone.

Despite her current dislike for Maetron at the moment, she still held an attachment to the woman that she could not explain. Sitting up without much grace, and a tummy that made her want to roll around like a bouncy ball, Phoenix looked her dead in the eyes. "Let me do it."

Their eyes remained connected a while. When Maetron's bright orange irises cruise away, she flashes a rye smile a moment, then in calm a breath later. "Do not joke, my lovely Phoenix. I imagine that you are unhappy with me as well. Just know that I did not have to gift you the power of my blood. . I could have hitched Pilot's soul to yours and you wouldn't have known. I did it as a gesture of good will, and as thanks. I do love you as well as a daughter, and could not stand the thought of you putting yourself at risk. This technique is strenuous, and I can smell that your body is failing. Yes, part of it is Pilot's attachment to your soul, but I fear that your choice of body was not entirely wise. I'm sorry. . "

Phoenix winced and shook her head. Part of her didn't want to believe it...."I can do this, mother." It was then clear that she too, loved the woman in a twisted way. "...Please...Let me try. If I can't do it, then you can take over...but please, let me try."

Phoenix's hand was at her chest and the soul itself was now loosened. She felt her energy dropping as she took in a breath and seperated it completely. Now it was fully in her grasp as she worked to concentrate where exactly it went. Her eyes hadn't left that gray body as she plucked the soul out and eased it over toward Pilot's broken body. With a nod, she gasped and shoved it inside.

Maetron moved closer to Phoenix, her body slanted so that her weight was left mostly Phoenix's responsibility. There was more to it, of course. Whether Phoenix's charging plea to perform the union herself was something Maetron had been banking on was an unknown—but it was clear that her need of success here was genuine. She wanted, she needed, she -craved- for Pilot's awakening. It was for this reason that some of Maetron's own energy was gifted to Phoenix now. Just a bit, not enough to leave her starving, but enough to keep Phoenix's mind clear. "That's good. . very good, my Phoenix. . "

Phoenix's eyes were completely black now, the whites of her eyes non-existant, as she secured the soul within Pilot. With the soul secure and sticking, all there was to do was wait....She waited for the skin to turn a pinkish pale shade, she waited for te first signs of life. Her weight was now lent to Maetron.

There was movement, just a slight, but it was perhaps nothing but a muscle spasm as her long, lost soul leapt into its old territory. Maetron gripped the side of the bed and leaned forward in anticipation. She did sling her left arm around Phoenix as an act of comfort; she did succeed afterall, or so it seemed at least. Pilot had yet to take a breath of her own.

Val, propped angularly into the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes thin, lifted his chin slightly. "Well" Did it work?"

Pilot's eyes shot wide, and in place of what was once red, were two spinning silver bulbs. Her mouth gaped as she sucked air passed those honed canines. Fingers sank into fists against the floor as she pushed herself up and violently flailed.

Phoenix looked on with smallish eyes and smiled softly as blackness sank back in to pupils. She began to sail backwards, her head meeting the bed, and then she was out.

Maetron curled forward, her arm outstretched but her muscles just did not have the ability to sustain this stance. The woman topples forward and lands on her knees, and both arms followed limply, powerlessly, pooling on the stonefloor like a doll. A series of tiny moans grumble in her throat, and with a mask of hair concealing her face, Maetron was just as strange and dead as Pilot. "Ehnn. . Pi. . Pilot. . ?

Val took a big, loud step forward as Maetron made her clumsy decent to the flooring. But Pilot's thrashing had the man rapt. He did not know much about this woman. He knew she was his sister, his blood—-but with the forbearance of the evidence (this being Nazareth), he had his reservations.

The first few seconds of standing, she embodied Bambi taking his first few steps. She was on the point of her toes, and struggling majorly with it. One foot in front of the other. One leg gave out, the other compensated, and had he not been holding on to her, she might have cracked her head open and died all over again. Val spoke, but she didn't comply. She continued to walk on the tips of her toes, clinging on to him for dear life.

His dry, curious became something of a satire during this long examination. I suppose she isn't much for words, he thought, and could not blame her. Right of the door was brown, stone bench that Phoenix had rested upon only a few minutes ago. Strange how time seems distorted when we're all having fun. Val ushers her ahead, uses two hands to guide her hips and lowers her down. "Here, sit. . I don't know what else I can do. No need to be mystic—-you haven't really been alive for a while. Does that make you hungry' Thirst' Boy, I don't know. . "

Pilot's stony silver eyes stared up at him. She again opened her mouth to speak, but her eyes were watery, and threatened to overflow. Nothing came out, and she forced a smile. It was sweet, and dimples were visible through it all as she lowered her washed out eyes. Then she nodded. Answering one of his questions, though it didn't seem to give away to which one. She sat down upon command and looked back, half expecting her mother to walk through that door.

Maetron would not be walking anywhere, anytime soon. Val accepts the nods, reciprocates with one of his own. Under his robes the man had a dagger and canteen locked to his belt. The canteen is jogged free. Unscrewing the cap, his lifts his eyebrows. "Just be careful with this. Drinking too fast when you're parched can lock your throat—-doing it in a recently reanimated body' Hell if I know what will happen." With the lid removed, Val tips the jug. He awaited her signal to begin pouring.

The signal was given when she dipped her head, tilted it upwards and opened her mouth. In that instance, he could recognize her as something of a baby bird....And he had just volunteered to be her caretaker. Her eyes stuck to him, and she waited for him to begin gifting her with what she hoped to be water.

Rhy?Din, Insurance executive Val was sure to always have a flask of fine brandy on him. Gailean, cloaked, desert-wandering Val had water on his hip. The man had never tasted alcohol before his exodus, so the version of him that Maetron had restored was a very good boy. Later on, back at home he would grimace at the thought. Val tips the flask and offers a tiny line of water. It did not appear strenuous on Pilot's throat, so he lifts the butt of the flask a little higher and a stronger beam of water trickled from the nozzle of the canteen. He watched her closely as to be wary of a choke or any such degenerative response.

Pilot would nod in his direction, smiling softly. She did understand, but had no desire to sleep. She'd been doing that for a while now....Still, it wouldn't stop her from quietely sitting beside the man and waiting for him to get up. "Bro-thurrr. Sleep." Informing him that she wanted for the man to sleep. Still clinging to him happily, she let her eyes fall shut to prove that she could accomplish these things.

"Heh. . you're funny." It was clear from the warm builds of smile and eyes that the recently awakened sister had already stolen him. Perhaps it was a hunger to have someone related to him that wasn't a sociopath. Val lead the girl up the stairs, and the top level of the old home of stone was no more flattering than the flatness of its bottom tier. Because it was dark outside, it was dark inside; whether Gailey was a region of higher technology was unknown, but using this home as a control, one would think not. And although it was dark, Val navigated with ease. Soon he would lean and release the girl onto a bed much like the one down stairs with a frame of wood and a bed of straw. An old wooden chair was jerked across the floorboards and Val set it next to the head of the bed that Pilot occupied. His boots clod away. A minute later a candle begins to glow, followed by another, followed by another. The light was wan, but welcome in lieu of darkness. "Mmf. . Well. Place ain't much. . but I do remember it well. I wonder—do you? You certainly spent more time here than I."

Pilot looked around, kept the smile plastered on her young face and nodded. She didn't have much to say....She was sorry for that, but it wasn't easy. She was still young, still a baby, despite her womanly body. "Bah...bath?" Sorry, Val, but it looked like he might be stuck with that chore. Those perfect eyes span as she stared at him.

Val placed one of his large hands over the lower half of his face. Val, traditionally, was not a blusher, and even now he might not have been, but the hand was there as a precaution. His eyes dive and his head shakes slowly. It wasn't an objection, it was perhaps embarrassed frustration. "I, uhm. . We can't wait until Phoenix wakes up?" Chances were Phoenix would have neither the strength nor desire to bathe a girl that had been robbing her of strength. Val realizes this, nods and pushes himself up. "Okay. . If I get the water running and give you the necessary items, like a rag and soap—will you be able to manage it yourself?"

With a big smile, and a nod, Pilot answered. It wasn't clear as to whether or not she'd be able to do it....She tended to smile and nod a lot. Silver eyes slowed to a stop in their spinning, and she looked up at him. Chances were, she couldn't do it on her own, seeing as how she could barely stand up by herself.

"Alright then. Hold tight." The man's boots smacked out of the room. It took the entirety of fifteen minutes for Val to construct bathtime conditions. Because this was no conventional home—the water needed to be pumped from the outdoor well, then transferred one bucket at a time from outdoors to the top floor, and this needed to be repeated more than a dozen times. After it was full, Val scoured the three empty rooms for toiletries. A tiny closet held what he was looking for; a rag, a towel and a tiny glass jar with oils. Not the most refined of items, but Pilot had never known luxury, and even those memories were lost. Val, with the towels slung over his shoulder, re-enters the room. "Okay. Got everything arranged. Ready?"

Without much modesty, because she didn't know any better, she worked herself from the cloth and got her clothes off. Save for stumbling a few times, she managed to do most of it by herself. "There." The girl said softly, and began to stumble her way towards the tub. Smiling, she kneeled down and climbed inside carefully. "Bath."

Val spun away just in time, but kept his hand tight on Pilot's wrist as she began to worm towards the tub. When she stumbled, he pulled, and when she neared the edge he felt confident enough to relinquish hold. He turns now, but his eyes were up and at the very bottom of his viewing angle, he could see just her head of tangled whiteblonde. "It's cold. Just a warning."

Yep, she got that warning too late. "Ca-ca-ca..." Pilot whimpered and began to go through the products. She couldn't read them, didn't understand them, so she dunked herself. Better to get all of the cold out of the way. "All done." Yep, she was done bathing....Pilot began to climb out after being in there for all of thirty seconds, soaking sopping wet.

"That—-that's it?" Val's eyes had mustered the command to sink a bit. They locked with Pilot's, and luckily for him those cyclical silvers were rapting enough to create a tunneling effect. "Are you. . clean?"

"I'm...wet!" At least she was honest! "Cold..." Pilot said and for his sake, her hands moved over those smallish, starved breasts. She was skinny with death, and would plump up soon enough, but for now, there wasn't much to look at.

Her skin still retained that shadowy hue, and although he was certain that nourishment was the best medicine for that, it was clear that she was still in need of washing. Val sighs and bends over to scoop up the washcloth. "Here," he said flatly, pointing at the water with a flat, upturned hand. "Get back in the water. I'll wash you up. Hopefully you won't remember this and neither of us will be scarred for life from it."

After dripping a good amount of water all over the floor, she climbed back in to the cold and sighed softly. She didn't like it anymore than he did. Those perfect, revolving silver eyes went off the scale as she stared up at him. "...love you..."

Val smiled, nodded and pushed himself up. "Alrighty, Little Miss," he said happily to Pilot. "I'm going to talk to The Phoenix here; if you need anything just holler, okay' We'll be right outside the door." Val turns, taps Phoenix on the shoulder and exits the bathroom. Once outside, the man crosses his arms and leans his shoulder against the wall. "It doesn't matter," he said to her quietly. "I'll fabricate a wheelbarrow and push the two of you out of here, it doesn't matter. Don't tell me that you -want- to stay in his fucking wasteland. I can't believe that."

"If that's what you want to do, Val....We both know I'm in no position to protest. I wasted all my energy on you and that thing over there..." Jerking her thumb.

Pilot proudly finished her bath, and even dunked herself to get away all the bothersome suds. She smiled softly, and stood to her full height, climbed out of the bath and sprinted. Valcroix and Phoenix would see a wet, naked blur, and she made it several steps before she crashed and burned.

"That -thing-" C"mon, she's a person. She's just another victim of Mother's endeavors. Just like Nazareth, but I never knew her to be viol—-" At this time, the very naked woman came skidding by. Val already had a palm stuck to his forehead as he anticipated the crash. Jogging over, Val tore off his cloak. It was long and heavy and easily masked Pilot's unmentionables. "Oh, c"mon, Pilot. Stand up, we'll get your arms in the sleaves. There might be a dress or something lying around." Although the cloak covered her while on the ground, Val knew she would again be exposed once on her feet. Val extended his hand for Pilot, but turned his eyes over his shoulder. "You—-don't look." Reimbursed with memory, Val certainly did not forget a certain immortal's relationship with a certain Dominion's sister. He wouldn't allow a repeat.

"Please, if I wanted to bang her, she'd be easy...but she's skin and bones, and let's face it, she's not my type..." The immortal said with the most faint of scoffs. Pilot stood up, and Phoenix shook her head. "For crying out loud...just put her in the dress she was wearing, you can get her into Martyr's clothes later."

Val's cloak was basically a long robe without buttons. He pulls the girl's arms through the sleeves, circles, pulls down the hem, scoots around once more and closes the breech so that no more flesh showed. "Okay. . okay. Not bad." His face spoke of uncertainty and analysis. "Mmm. . no. Can't put her back in the dress she -died- in. For God's sake, that's insanity. This'll work for now, mm' You okay, Pilot' Comfy??

Pilot mastered the steps after the first two, and tried leading the pack. As they made it from the house, Phoenix collapsed into the and. Pilot tore herself from him in an attempt to show that no man was to be left behind....Those eyes fell shut, and she let them roll in her head for a moment as she collapsed by Phoenix and tried to tug her up. "Up! Up!"

Val snapped around and presided over the predicament with careful eyes. Feeling stronger than ever, he truly believed he could sling both women over his shoulder and carry them to rift. But even Dominion feared the desert cold at night, and if his muscles were to lock and he found himself unable to continue, he was not so sure that Phoenix could last the night. So he turns and begins piling sand. Bent over like a child rolling great snowballs, Val compiled a series of sandy mounds in one area. Pilot and Phoenix would be treated to a series of brilliant flashes, ten in total. When the smoke cleared Val was standing, pushing himself up from a simple cart he had formed; woodcast and rudimentary, but it had four big wheels and a long, flat bed. "Alright. Let's get her up." Val jogged over and bent over to collect Phoenix. If she would allow him afterall.

Aside from a barely lifting head that a few choice pieces of profanity, Phoenix didn't protest. Pilot helped, or pretended to by grabbing an arm. When she fell down on her ass and no weight was sent on Val, it became clear it was all for show. "Oops!" Now she scooted beside them. Hello unmentionables!

For the time being, Val was engaged with getting Phoenix up. Because of Pilot's, although cute, just-for-show assistance, Val leaned completely over and pulled Phoenix into his arms. The reason he did not see Pilot's special parts was partly because he was not -looking-, expecting they'd pop up eventually, but more importantly he feared that Phoenix would use her last ounce of strength on an armored uppercut to his groin, considering how wide-open he was. With their past as exhibit A, Val could certainly believe that doing so was on her bucket list. He moves her onto the cart and pats her forehead several times. "Okay, just stay with us, Phoenix." Val turns and boom. Scared eyes jounce around without objective as he jogs over to close her robe. "C"mon, Pilot, we need to go.?

Nazareth crept out of the smog. The ends of her sleeves and the cuffs her pants were burnt clean off, but she remained primarily conservative as usual. Her face was still and keen and it was not until a certain sister spoke that her face moved. Nazareth approached the cart and bent down. Cradling Pilot's cheek, Nazareth's slowly revolving eyes seemed to mimic the meter of the opponent silvers. She smiles. "Oh. . Little Pilot. How long is has been."

"Enough, Nazareth," Val said sternly. "Let's just go. You want to come" Then we go now."

"Let me catch up a moment. . "

Pilot tilted her head, nobody had explained to her that she had been dead all this time. She smiled at Nazareth, but didn't offer much else aside from looking down to her hand and patting the spot she'd reserved for her big sister a little more urgently. "We go now."

"Well I don't mind if I do," Nazareth said pleasantly. She plants her rear onto the area of the car Pilot had reserved for her. Her dangling legs kick playfully like a child's. "Well come on now, brother. Your sisters want to go home."

Nazareth's coy behavior always drove the man sideways, but he wouldn't argue; for once her scathing humor worked to his advantage; the quicker they left, the better. Starting the fully-loaded cart forward, Val asks, "Just where are we going."

Nazareth had yet to remove her eyes from Pilot. Her smile was large and wanting and her eyes seemed to turn faster all the time. A sign of emotion, and anyone close to Nazareth (save Agnus) would know that it was not happiness. "Mm. . straight ahead, Valcroix. The rocks open up. You have the stone?"

"Yeah."

"Okay then. Look. Do you see it?"

"Mm...Mmhmm. Yep. So now what?"

Nazareth hopped off the cart and offered Pilot her hand. "Come now, sister—-let us go home."

Pilot took Nazareth's hand and stumbled into her. "Woah!" Legs, not quite there just yet....She clung tightly to the rangy woman and took in a deep breath. "Home?" She had to ask, because she didn't know. She thought that house was home. "Mother..?"

Phoenix shooked her head a few times slowly before jolting awake and gasping for air. Her silver eyes span rapidly, and she looked around as if she, too had come out of a long-time coma. They settled on Val, and softened as memories came flooding back. Pilot was pointing and carrying on like a child would, wanting to know all the words for everything she was seeing,

A warm smile for her awakening whether she wanted it or not (he'd wager on "not"). "Hey. . glad you're still with us. Scared for a minute, you know. We need to get you into town; Martyr's going to fix you up." He hoped—Phoenix's own blood was doing virtually nothing to silence her disease; he hoped it was just that her blood was dull, not a rejection from the will of her new body.

Phoenix shook her head, "I have places to be, and I don't want Martyr to know I had anything to do with any of this...If she finds out, I swear on everything I'll eat your soul and leave nothing left for the scavengers..." This was all said in a single breath, and the hellion looked worse off for it.

"That so?" Val asked with a playful face. Despite her degenerated state, Val knew it to be unwise to pick on the beast, but also understood that keeping the mood as far away from the macabre as possible was important. "You aren't going to get very far like this. If you don't want me to bring you home with me, then just tell me where you're going. I won't argue with you."

"Honestly?" Phoenix said from his arms and stared up with a wide gaze. "...Probably to go somewhere and eat seven cheeseburgers and a large fry.." That was the god's-honest truth. Sorry, Valcroix, but Pilot might have disappeared. She hadn't gone far, but was now out of sight.

"Well that sounds awful—it's go right to your thighs you know." Was that Val with a fat joke" Yerp. Before noticing Pilot's absence, Val pulled Phoenix off the ground and seated her in his arms again. "Alright, then I'll drop your ass off at the first greasepit we come acr—-" Eyes widen. "Hey! Pilot!" Val started off into the thicket, walking quickly with Phoenix in his arms. "Hey! Where are you!?"

"Aww, let her explore." Phoenix mumbled sarcastically as she came up and into his arms again. A soft sigh escaped her lips and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I still fucking hate you...but I'm glad your back. For Martyr's sake. She's different now, starting to change."

Still scouring the thicket for his sister, Val's head wheeled to-and-fro. "Heh. . hate me all you like, Phoenix. I'm not stupid, I am quite keen to the unforgivable. You have my apologies, you know that and I'm going to continue to work at it. If only for Martyr. But—-change how?"

Thier trip into town was filled with the antics one could expect from a recently-revived girl in a city for the first time. So by the time the trio hit the main boulevard, Val was basically holding Pilot by the collar of the cloak to ensure that she could not run off into traffic or any other such disasters. Seeing a man in a medieval tunic with a battered woman in his arms and a wide-eyed, childlike blonde in a skimpy cloak would be strange anywhere else but here in Rhy"Din. So they avoided eyecontact for the most part. Treading into the parkinglot of a diner called "The Firepit Cafe", Val took a chance and let Pilot's collar go so that he could let Phoenix down. "You going to be okay?" he asked, angling her body letting her feet touch the ground first.

Phoenix stumbled forwards and waved him off. "I'm good." The immortal assured him, perhaps a touch impatient as she moved for the building.

Pilot stared in her direction and waved sadly. "Bye-bye Feeeenix." As then her distractions were back on. She saw a strange cat man, with cat ears and got all sorts of exited. "Oh, oh!" She attempted to run, but was gagged by the leash he'd created from her clothing.

Preventing Pilot's advance with a firm grip, Val did not release Phoenix from his sight. He was turning to begin towards home when something leapt onto his face. "Hey, Phoenix!" Val shouted, starting towards her with Pilot still in his hands. "Wait a minute."

Phoenix turned to face him and stared with wide eyes. What could be so important that food might be interupted. "What?" The girl snapped, taking a lean against the door frame and blocking anyone else that might want to come in.

Pilot was learning to say the least, trying to work her way out of the robe.

Taking a chance, Val released Pilot and walks up to Phoenix with his head down. Sweeping fangs of hair conceal his face, both hands dropped into his pockets. He stops squarely ahead of her, removes his right hand and extends it. Eyes lift and a smile lights. "Hey—-that picture. Here, it's yours. It's something to know that you carry it around. That isn't to say that I'm doubting your feelings for Max and Martyr, but you didn't clip my face out. Guess you just haven't gotten around to it, huh?"

Phoenix grabbed the picture, and smirked. "Didn't think to do it. But thanks, I'll keep it in mind." The immortal said, pocketing the photo. Then she looked over his shoulder. "Pilot's about to get into a car with that strange greasy looking cat-man." The girl said casually, and patted him on the shoulder.

Val didn't wait around to combat her joke. Instead, sprinting to Pilot, he waved his right arm frantically as his goodbye to Phoenix. "Hey!" the man howls coldly. At Pilot's side, he wraps his arms around her to make sure her unmentionables were, well. . not being -mentioned-. "Scatter, cat!" Val hollered. With Pilot in his grasp, Val turns to instruct direction. He leans into the girl's ear. "Come on. . you can't go up to people you don't know, alright' This place is just as, if not -more- dangerous than Gailey."

But in the end, people were the same all over.