The back of her head met with the cold concrete wall of the holding cell with a soft thunk. Isuelt sighed heavily and lifted her dark gaze to stare up at the ceiling. Not that she could clearly make out anything but the shadowed outline of the roof over her head. She had been trying, nonetheless, to trace the corners of her cell all day. There was not much more for her to do. She was allowed no visitors, and the constable had not yet been in to speak with her. The only other voices she had heard were the quiet and brief conversations of the guards outside as they changed their shifts.

The cold breeze played havoc with her skin once more; the dank surroundings and her inactivity were starting to take a toll on the Scathachian's body temperature. A shiver rang through her bones, though part of Isuelt almost refused to give in to it. She fought against the shake of her body longing for heat; just another action she viewed as weakness"particularly now.

Isuelt's dark and twisted twin rose up once more and plagued her with visions of years past. Her own worst enemy, the enemy within, had been attacking without so much as a parry from the weary warrior. How ironic, she thought, All those years I killed without a truly just cause" All those lives I took in exchange for money' And it is now that I find myself in a cell, for deaths that I did not bring about. Isuelt brought her knees to her chest, for she was sitting on the stone floor covered only with a modest amount of sullied straw. She drew herself into a ball, her sculpted arms encircling her legs, her forehead resting on her knees.

The silence would have been serene, but for the screaming in her head.

The demon was rearing its head yet again. The demon that had planted indestructible seeds of self-doubt in her youth. The demon that had skidded along her skin with the tip of every blade. The demon that laughed through her tears. The demon that now looked through her anguish with eyes as black as night to see the Scathachian locked away for the very act she fought against.

Irony always held the higher hand, even if you thought you had an ace up your sleeve.

Eddie had spent the better part of the past few days all over the West End, desperately looking for evidence to free Issy, but no one would talk to her about the murders. By the time she reached the prision, she was frustrated bordering on pissed. She had spent the better part of three months getting the locals to trust her. After the murders, all her hard work was undone. Eddie was all out of leads, and out of ideas.

She went behind the prison, giving Mirage a nod of greeting. "Hey there. I've spent all day out, but no one's talking to me anymore. They see my tats and clam up. Man I want whoever did this - I want them beaten and bloodied and stomped for framing Issy. This is so stupid. Issy's not guilty - no way in Hell she'd butcher anyone." She kicked at the stones behind the prison, making the pittle rocks scatter as she vented her rage.

"So - any ideas how we can get her out of that hellhole?"

The Scathachian gritted her teeth in frustration as she stared at the prison which contained her dear friend. She was truly very glad that Reeni and Eddie had joined her here. She felt so helpless right now.

Eddie's news, however, was less than pleasing. Mirage vented: "They are afraid of us Eddie" Us"! This is utter madness. We are the ones who are trying to keep them all safe! Issy would never do this...never....probably not even to someone who deserved it."

Her dark eyes looked from Eddie to big Reeni. She pondered Ren's suggestion. "Legal counsel....I've never had to rely on that before, but I'm sure there is some decent man or woman here who would be willing to help Illea out of this damnable mess. We have to have some friends left, right' In the meantime, we have to figure out who is responsible for this slaughter and haul them in.....preferably without snapping their neck or severing their miserable head, so that they can properly confess."

The last addition to that chore was probably going to be the most difficult for them all.

Mirage narrowed her dark eyes. Reeni's explosive temper certainly got her attention. She knew Ren was very angry and she was feeding into it herself. In fact, as it seemed, the three Sisters were feeding more off of each other's fury and concern than off of any kind of tranquil center.

She inhaled sharply and slowly closed her eyes. Thinking back to her lessons on the Island of Shadow, Mirage focused on finding that very center which would help to clarify her chaotic thoughts.

After two or three minutes of silent meditation, her eyes once more opened. She then looked at both Reeni and Eddie. Her voice was even as she spoke, "Issy knows we aren't going to let anyone convict her....", Mirage began "...but I want to make sure that no one....and I do mean no one....is harming her right now as we speak."

She stopped only momentarily to gather her remaining thoughts. "Illea has a close friend who all the girls call "The Empress". I think she is sister to that Brian gentleman who is courting Jen. If she is truly a kin of Brian, and a noble friend of Scathach's daughters, then maybe this Jewel can indeed help us out..............find a way to get word to Illea somehow. I can say this, that in the short time I've been here in Rhydin, I have heard that she's very influential and incredibly determined. We all know that Illea wouldn't want us to spill blood......no......not yet at least. I really think we should find a way to contact Jewell and ask her for aid."

With that, Serena awaited input from her two Scathachian Sisters.

Laufeia's footsteps had found themselves silently coming to a slow stop behind the figure of the wolf, naturally Lau knew that it was certainly Trixie and, gently she would place a hand to rest atop of her head, smiling down at her most weakly. "Looks like we're all here, hm?" The soft caring voice that was once always a part of Laufeia's persona had wavered to something weak.

The news, really, had pushed Laufeia into more seclusion than normal. She did love her alone time, but recently' She has spent many mornings without food, without contact with the Sisters....Sitting in her room and tending to her snakes. Bobbie the purple Boa slowly, slithered down to lick at the ears of Trixie's wolf form, his folk tongue sensing it to be her without a shadow of a doubt.

With one last tap to the wolf's head, she would continue her wandering towards the other three, arms coming to rest upon her slender hips. The leather pants and jacket creaking along with her movements. Leather gloved fingers would curl into a vist, as those now yellow oval orbs would flicker to Eddie, Mirage, then Ren. She had overheard them from a distance, but kept herself unknown for the time being.

A shake of her head given, the unkempt punk styled hair would shift across her face. "People need to blame someone. It just so happened one of us was there at the time. There is no need to be angry at these people," Laufeia canted her head, the purple boa that protruded out from between the parting just above her closed jacket sunk a majority of its body back on in, the large head resting against Lau's cheek, "The question is why have they blamed our Illea?"

A nice interuption.

A silent thought then came, that needed to be voiced. "A possibility....But what if someone is framing us here on purpose" Taking our symbols, our methods of killing, our methods right down to near perfection that the people would instantly blame the first Scathchian on sight....I suggest someone is copying us, or, knows about us too well....Could it be, a copycat' Or could it be a Scathachian?"

Eyes would close, "We need to support Issy right now, not to debate out here. We can talk of this in less public areas."

"Trixie....Trixie....Tricky little Trixie.' she mused in her twisted mind as she predatorily watched the gathered Sisters sharply from the window across the street. "Was she a vampire....was she a wolf.....was she both.....what a damnable abomination. It would not cause anyone too much sorrow to see her pulled apart and left to rot in the midday sun." Maybe that's why Giminicka had always been fond of Trixie. Plain and simple.....she was cursed.....and often a loner.

Though much a solitudinarian herself during her time on that accurst Island of Shadow, Giminicka did share some rich times with Harlequin. For you see, Harlequin understood the true nature of the universe and the order of things in the many savage corners of the world. Hunt or be hunted.......Kill or be killed...........it was better to do both before your enemy even knew who you existed.......or perhaps before he or she was even your enemy.

A cold smile split her lips as Giminicka watched them all helplessly gazing at the prison where Isuelt was incarcerated for crimes she was wholly innocent of. She had certainly observed Trixie's intense aversion to the silent patch of darkness behind them.......smart, smart girl.

She had also noted Lamia's firm attempt to hold order over them all and maintain the Scathachian discipline. Always such the noble teacher Laufeia was......she had lived far too long for Giminicka's liking.

Oh, and Mirage......lovely Mirage.....so quick to anger and then so adept at regaining her spiritual center. Giminicka never cared for this bitch nor for that inane prayer book she would vigilantly carry wherever she went. One day Giminicka would take great pleasure in shoving that book down Mirage's bleeding throat.........page by page by painful page.

And look....there was Reeni. The iron brute who loved to enforce the dogmas of these miserable wenches. Her swinging at the wall was of no great surprise.........frustration and rage seemed to shadow the big girl without fail. It would be fun to taste her screams.

Finally, the one they called Eddie......a young sprite not more than twenty years old, if that. They had not yet met face to face. Such strong, fluid movements this Eddie possessed, however. Krysira was right about this one...........she would be a delectable appetizer to feast on before the main course was gutted and skinned.

Her feral mind continued to muse as she watched: "Here they all were. Only three little piggies missing: Illea, despite all of her renowned might and clout, was imprisoned........what a shame. Fret not though, for Issy's role in this grim tale was far from over. She would gaze into the very eyes of Hell by the time the piper ended this tune. Jenai, given her strong reputation and destructive temper, was undoubtedly using all of her brutal talents to search for clues that would clear Illea.........have fun.' Giminicka lusted for the day when she was able to finally see the fiery redhead Jen once again.........she could already imagine how her smooth, flawless skin would feel as it was peeled away from her ivory skeleton. 'And then there was little, black Rae. The powerful and highly-skilled dark Drow.....praying for a hidden answer or better yet prowling the streets looking for an informant to snap for information....hunt away my subterranean dreg....I welcome it.?

Her deadly green eyes shot back to Trixie and she closely studied her uncanny lupine form. There was a shred of hope left for this one. Perhaps Trixie would be willing to finally embrace that which Giminicka knew long ago.....perhaps this one was at long last ready to break the iron chains of this false, feeble religion and ascend to a higher spiritual and physical being. If any were truly ready......it would be her indeed. Trixie knew the hunger......her thoughts most assuredly bathed themselves in blood even when her unconscious mind slept......it was inevitable given her state.

Giminicka moved away from the window and slowly vanished into the bowels of the large building, As she left, Nocent wondered if "The Harlequin" was at long last ready to remove her Scathachian mask and feast on the succulent souls which would mold her destiny.

It was reasons like this alone that the infamous Temple Priestess had not once visited Issy while she was held so wrongly. Chicken fence only let the fox get all his dinner in one place.

She kept tabs on each as best she could. She knew the others, could take care of themselves. But wasn't exactly how she felt about Issy' Issy was fine. She had just been wrongly accused, given too much time alone, but she was alive. Alive is all Jenai wanted for Is. The rest she could try and focus on' the whys, who's, when's. The Where's always came up, hand in hand with the what?s. Death and a location. And no, she did not share everything Brian and she found. Some things they kept very much to themselves and maybe one more. Less chance to have someone screw things up until they had the omega of an answer. The answer.

"Where's Jenai been?" she's heard, over and again. She had not forsaken one of her dearest friends and truest sisters. Deep in her turbulent soul she knew while a visit may have cheered Issy' She would know the Beastie had been hidden playing in the pockets of ink, tomes, library, contacts and limiting herself from view. Why paint a target on her throat. Someone wanted them out of the way or dead. As much as she felt the very touch and favor of Scathach in her, she knew she couldn't work from jail, let alone from the grave.

They would see Issy out of jail, they would make who did these crimes pay. Pay' there was more to that if Jenai's puzzle would just fit together better" some pieces while they painted a very different picture" just didn't fit! Too many people had other bits, too many wishing Issy only the best, so many all over the place.

At the library's long table she planted her forehead in her palms. Who ever it was knew the exact mess they were creating. For pure frustration factor alone, Jenai was going to wear their head as a hat and do a prayer dance on their corpse.