The day was quiet, thus far. Her first full day out and about after the evening that had transpired last night. Still, all was well and Isuelt took another sip of her drink, this time watching the Inn's patrons as she did so. A lady in red entered from the alley. Well. For once, the red worn around her was nothing more than just mere silken tresses of an elegant dress, and not the other kind of crimson that is oft clinging to her skin. Glowing crimson eyes, flecked in ethereal azure seemed unblinking, and doll-like as they gazed blankly at nothing in particular. Her long black hair was tied back into a simply ponytail, a hair band of knitted together mini-white roses holding it in its place. She headed for the bar, looking at no one. She had other things on her mind. It was This One.

The mouthful of whiskey stalled in Isuelt's throat as she watched This One, clad in crimson, saunter in and over to the bar. She had to shut her eyes and bow her head against the flood of images that jockeyed for position in her mind. It was like a decade's long dream just came screaming back to her and her body shuddered with the weight of the nightmares she'd experienced. However, another still sip of whiskey would settle her nerves. For now. She knew that this wasn't the Renna that she had so much history with. Still, she couldn't not look away from This One. She couldn't not watch her with an agonizing pity and an unsettling and uncertain degree of empathy.

As This One moved to behind the bar, her eyes remained focused at the task at hand. Behind the bar, she produced two glasses. One, she filled to the brim with vodka, and the other, with a good whiskey. She would had taken Batten's favourite, but that would had been a cheap shot, at best. And she was never that cheap. Sometimes....From behind the bar she approached Issy's table, and still disregarded looking at the woman. She placed the whiskey next to the other of Issy's. "This One assumes that the Subject: Isuelt, would require another glass." She placed her vodka on the opposite end of the table, and sat on a chair there. Finally, her eyes locked with Isuelt's. "Has the Target: Batten, been administering anti-psychotics as per This One's recommendation?"

Isuelt's elbow was on the table, with her hand gingerly balancing her head. She opened her eyes at both the sound of the glass being set down and the voice that was so familiar. Isuelt blinked once, staring at the whiskey glass. She stared at it for a good long moment. Then, when she was ready, she lifted her gaze to look upon This One. "Anti-psy....I...." She really didn't know how to answer that. He'd not been giving her infusions that she knew of, save a saline infusion, since she'd awoken. "I don't think so."

"Do you feel fine?" Was the straight up, unemotional response. "No urges. Not desires to do what is not of the norm for the Subject?"

Isuelt's espresso gaze couldn't leave This One. She simply watched her. No, stared at her was more accurate. There was something in her voice, her face. It was still all so familiar, even though she knew it wasn't the Renna she'd had so much history with. "I don't think so. I feel okay."

A slight dip of her head. But her eyes remained on Issy's. "Then This One was in time before the Virus completely altered your psychological make-up. A result most pleasing."

"The Subj—" She shook her head, "Batten has done far above and beyond his station."

"Explain the statement in regards to Batten."

She sighs, "Batten has taken care of me and from what he tells me, I owe my life to you."

"Statement incorrect. The Subject, owes nothing to This One." She folded her hands into her lap. Her posture was....Oddly straight in the chair. As if she was trained to be prim, and proper. But the bolt upright sitting position, merely matched just how clinically unresponsive her eyes were being in regards to blinking. "Fact. This One infected the Subject with the Virus to mimic the Subject's hatred, when lost to the Rage Virus's control. Fact. This One considered allowing the Rage Virus to fully mature within the host, and to complete its maturation process. And to commence molecular dissolution." She looked to her vodka. "Therefore, the Subject owes nothing, to This One."

The Scathachian was sitting there, listening fully, taking it all in. Much of what was being said simply went over her head. One thing was certain, however. It didn't really sound all that happily-ever-after. She inhaled a long, slow breath, during which she lifted her glass and carefully drained it. She replaced the empty glass next to the full one that This One had set down for her. Her eyes locked on that next glass as she spoke with supreme clarity. "In any event, thank you for removing it from me. He said that if you hadn't, he was at a loss and that I probably would have died. So....thank you." She flicked a gaze to This One.

Stared, and slowly lifted a finger to tap at her own head. "You mean this?"

Isuelt swallowed, her face paling a bit. She nodded slowly.

She smiled. "There is no need to thank, This One."

"Still. I'm not above saying thank you when it's warranted. And believe me, this is warranted." The Judge bowed her head to This One and lifted the glass in a salute before taking a sip.

"The thanks, should be to Batten. This One has adopted certain parameters when in Rhy'Din, and it is due to Batten's words, to the last Incarnation, that This One saved the Subject from its imperfection, and removed the Virus."

A slow nod to her at that. "I've thanked Ed. He knows that I owe him more than I could ever repay him." The Scathachian sighed then. "It's funny...." She glanced down at the glass as she felt the heat parade down her throat. "I never thought I would really find myself indebted to him or to Renna....er...well...to you, I guess."

This One lost her smile. "No debt is required. However." She moved a hand across the table, and settled her palm to cup over a portion of table just beside Isuelt's glass. A small azure glow animated, as per the sound of something like glass, growing underneath. When the glow died down, and she took her hand away, a Pentagram crystalline fragment was left upon the tabletop. "This, is between us." She lowered her voice. But it kept the same bleak tone it always had. "The crystalline structure is a node, into This One's Sister Network. Hold this, and the Subject, Isuelt, shall be able to contact any one of us. At any time."

"Between us..." Isuelt whispered in return as she watched the crystalline structure...the node. As the notion finally sunk in, she lifted her dark gaze to behold This One. "This...this is for me" To...to ask for you?" Her long fingers reached across the table and she took the crystalline piece in her hand. She thought it would be cold, or cool at least. But it seemed to pulse with a warmth that tingled through her hand and up her arm. The priestess felt goose bumps rising as the feelings and emotions from the memories she'd shared were stirred anew.

This One shook her head, gently. "The Subject can call upon me if need be for any reason. However, the Network applies to the Sisters, The Black Flame, and the rest of This One's army, if need be. However. This One can restrict the Subject, if need be. Access to memories, is classified. As if location of each node. It is a communication device, and nothing more." She stood slowly, "It may also contact Lexia, if the Subject so wishes."

The priestess's lips trembled and she ran a hand over her mouth quickly to disguise the emotion that threatened to flood forth. The mention of her Sister, Lexia, was almost too much to bear.

"On one condition."

Her eyebrows wrinkled as she looked to This One, though her hand still remained at her lips, hiding the emotional pain she felt. She swallowed, feeling like she had to gulp down an emotion the size of a tankard. "Anything..."

"That node, is a direct access into This One's Network. It must not be known Isuelt has access to it. This is, classified, information." She ceased there, and then tilted her head, just so. Her point was probably thrown across given how silent she went. She moved to pass the table, and yet stopped beside Isuelt. "If Isuelt wishes to meet with This One in the future, search for This One at the Rosa Gigantea."

"Rosa Gigantea," she breathed and nodded. Her fist closed tightly around the node before she lifted her chin to look at This One. "Understood."

This One moved to depart, but paused again. She kept her eyes at the front door. Her face blank. "This One apologizes for infecting the Subject. But. It was necessary."

"Wait..." She pushed out from her chair with such a rapid force, that the legs screeched along the floor boards. The Scathachian didn't seem to mind, however as she moved toward and reached out to This One. "Why' Tell me why' Why was it necessary to infect me?" The frantic look in her eyes told the story of how she'd been dwelling on that one question since this began.

She had made two steps before she turned around fully. "This One must insist on not knowing the reason."

Strong Scathachian fingers curled, but gently, around This One's arm. "You mean you do not know, or you insist on not telling me?"

She stared. "So be it." This One narrowed her eyes onto Isuelt. "This One has stated once in the past to the Subject, that the hatred generated by the Subject towards this face," she indicated her face a point, "spurred you into various emotional depravities. The natural rage before infection towards This One's face made this one realize that there were various emotional drives involving your acts of revenge, and hate, against This One's face, in the past. The wrongs done by this face, were justified, and real. This One could not emulate such raw energies, into a Viral Strain, without simulating it. This One, psycho-analyzed your brainwaves, and copied the chemical reactions within your brain, when This One forced your perception to see nothing, but this face, several times. Other triggers were in effect. The insecurity of showing weakness. Hiding it behind a bottle. And hiding the blood on the Subject's hands." She was cold, honest, and clinical about it. "This One chose you were....The highest probability of success, in creating the Rage Virus's basic psychology."

Isuelt stood tall and imposing, but there was something in her facial countenance not seen by This One, or any in the Sister Network before. It was the branded expression of understanding and connection. "I....you mean I brought this upon myself." It was as if her goddess Scathach, herself, was speaking to her of the dangers of vengeance unbalanced. And this priestess heard it, loud and clear. She released This One's arm and put a fist to her chest with a clipped bow. "Understood."

"Thank you." She announced, smiling.

Isuelt relaxed her bow slowly and brought her gaze to This One once again. "I..." She knew she was stubborn. All her life, she'd been told that. And now" Being told that it was her stubborn mindset of revenge that could very well possibly endanger others because of the virus that had been perfected...well, she was praying that she'd not see the day that her errors caused havoc for others. "I am sorry for my inability to reign in my anger. For whatever it's worth, for whomever is listening in or can understand what I'm saying...in...in that Network." She licked her lips and held her hand out to This One. "I believe our past...well, Renna and my past...is just that. Past. Passed." She nodded to This One with a somber expression of one who buries a friend....or a long-had adversary.

Again was about to leave, but noticed....Emotional responses. She turned, and did the next best thing she could offer Isuelt other than words of how illogical she was being. She opened her arms, and drew the woman into an embrace.

Shocked to the ends of her hair, she stayed in the embrace, and even returned it. In a way, it was like embracing herself and all the pain that had been seared and all the blood that had been shed between Issy and Renna. Catharsis. Pure and simple.

Remaining in the embrace. "....Logic would make This One if following the Renna-style of persona, to make This One bite the Subject's neck again." That, was apparently, a joke. It was as deadpan as a pan to the face.

And for a moment, Isuelt froze. Though after a heartbeat....or three, she smirked and even chuckled. After all, the joke that This One attempted" Pretty damned good.

This One still kept herself in a hug. "....When does This One release a person before it becomes, awkward?"

"Now is okay," she let go of This One and smirked. Though as she released the shell of Renna, well that was how she saw it, she looked at her and slowly nodded. "It's okay."

This One followed within a beat. "Is kissing now supposed to commence?"

"Not...not really." Isuelt shook her head. She tucked a few dark strands of hair behind her ear and smirked at This One. "Thanks....really. For everything."

She nodded, and took a step back. "Rosa. Call This One, Rosa. It is the name This One gave itself, originally."

"Rosa," another nod. "Thank you, Rosa. It's...well, I'd say it's been a pleasure, but I think the word is 'interesting.' It's been interesting."

"If the Subject wishes pleasure to be the next Virus, then This One can suggest the Bliss." She spoke. Turned, and then left. Another joke it would seem. A joke lost, perhaps.

A hand immediately went up, "That's...that's okay. I think I'm good with viruses for a while." Isuelt blinked, unsure if that was humor or not. Still, she smirked and sighed, feeling better than she had in ages.



(Renna, how can I thank you for all of the years of writing and plotting with you? For everything we put Issy and Renna through, I want to express my respect, my love and my admiration for everything you've done and everything you've inspired me to do. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you, sweetie!)