Fire.
It had been weeks? possibly months since Sivanna had experienced the kind of emotional response Anya?s arrest elicited. Worse than the arrest itself was the cool and collected way her best friend behaved.
Neo?
He was so sure to trust the human, wasn?t he? Trust the system? After seeing people she cared about behind bars, Sivanna was less than willing to put her faith in a corrupt bureaucracy. And still, with an unjust arrest warrant, Neo had allowed the detective to go about his business. Arrest her. Take her away.
Neo had held her back.
Was he so keen on playing the hero that he had forgotten what friendship actually was? So quick to tell everyone what to do, Neo was. Because he was so perfect, wasn?t he? A kind, law-abiding citizen. Gods she was angry.
So angry. Why was she so angry? Neo did what he thought was right.
No? Neo put his do-good attitude ahead of his friends. If they had come to take Sivanna away, would he have stood back and watched? He would have.
Fire.
The cleric barreled into the laboratory her mentor had been so considerate to grant her access to within the Citadel. Trembling hands sifted through bottles and beakers, though she was ever-so-careful to leave Raithmoore?s personal effects undisturbed. Her tutor could not be so disrespected after everything he had done for her. Feeling her eyes burn with toxic black ichor, Sivanna?s fingers found a tiny vial filled with an elixir she herself had concocted-- a hybrid of propofol and lithium among other things. In a gasp, she fell to her knees, feeling the darkness threaten to take over.
Rage. Hatred. Death.
Fire.
In the back of her mind, she desperately tried to search her Bond connection for any signs of someone she loved.
?Too late?? the elfess hissed through her teeth. Glass shattered around her as the rage rolled off her shoulders in palpable waves. The dim awareness of a destroyed vial cutting into her palm registered, but she clutched on. There was a dull thrumming coming from somewhere; sheet rock sloughing off the walls. Tomes rumbled and fell off their shelves, stirring clouds of dust around the room. Urgently Sivanna grasped an intravenous variation of the drug that had been in the broken vial, and exposing the soft inside of her elbow, she injected the thick red dose directly into her vein. Almost immediately, she became very aware of the fact that her body still moved, though her limbs felt like lead and her ears full of cotton.
It wasn't working. Why wasn't it working?
"Raithmoore!" she cried hopelessly before her power of speech was taken from her.
Run... Alec... everyone... run? was the last coherent thought that drifted across that weak connection.
Fire. There in Raithmoore?s laboratory, all she saw was fire. Flammable chemicals ignited and exploded magnificent blues and blacks and fluorescent greens in their beakers over the roar of imminent flame. Sivanna was a composer; and everything she touched became beautiful. Glass shattering provided ample, musical percussion while the groaning collapse of ashen timber drummed a proper base for her to play to. The flames made quarter notes in the air, instructing her to blow them on and carry the tune. Carry the song, Sivanna. The daunting whirlwind of flames and fury. Past the study... into the hall... let the music ring for all of Rhy'Din if need be. Play for them. Destroy them.
Let it burn.
It had been weeks? possibly months since Sivanna had experienced the kind of emotional response Anya?s arrest elicited. Worse than the arrest itself was the cool and collected way her best friend behaved.
Neo?
He was so sure to trust the human, wasn?t he? Trust the system? After seeing people she cared about behind bars, Sivanna was less than willing to put her faith in a corrupt bureaucracy. And still, with an unjust arrest warrant, Neo had allowed the detective to go about his business. Arrest her. Take her away.
Neo had held her back.
Was he so keen on playing the hero that he had forgotten what friendship actually was? So quick to tell everyone what to do, Neo was. Because he was so perfect, wasn?t he? A kind, law-abiding citizen. Gods she was angry.
So angry. Why was she so angry? Neo did what he thought was right.
No? Neo put his do-good attitude ahead of his friends. If they had come to take Sivanna away, would he have stood back and watched? He would have.
Fire.
The cleric barreled into the laboratory her mentor had been so considerate to grant her access to within the Citadel. Trembling hands sifted through bottles and beakers, though she was ever-so-careful to leave Raithmoore?s personal effects undisturbed. Her tutor could not be so disrespected after everything he had done for her. Feeling her eyes burn with toxic black ichor, Sivanna?s fingers found a tiny vial filled with an elixir she herself had concocted-- a hybrid of propofol and lithium among other things. In a gasp, she fell to her knees, feeling the darkness threaten to take over.
Rage. Hatred. Death.
Fire.
In the back of her mind, she desperately tried to search her Bond connection for any signs of someone she loved.
?Too late?? the elfess hissed through her teeth. Glass shattered around her as the rage rolled off her shoulders in palpable waves. The dim awareness of a destroyed vial cutting into her palm registered, but she clutched on. There was a dull thrumming coming from somewhere; sheet rock sloughing off the walls. Tomes rumbled and fell off their shelves, stirring clouds of dust around the room. Urgently Sivanna grasped an intravenous variation of the drug that had been in the broken vial, and exposing the soft inside of her elbow, she injected the thick red dose directly into her vein. Almost immediately, she became very aware of the fact that her body still moved, though her limbs felt like lead and her ears full of cotton.
It wasn't working. Why wasn't it working?
"Raithmoore!" she cried hopelessly before her power of speech was taken from her.
Run... Alec... everyone... run? was the last coherent thought that drifted across that weak connection.
Fire. There in Raithmoore?s laboratory, all she saw was fire. Flammable chemicals ignited and exploded magnificent blues and blacks and fluorescent greens in their beakers over the roar of imminent flame. Sivanna was a composer; and everything she touched became beautiful. Glass shattering provided ample, musical percussion while the groaning collapse of ashen timber drummed a proper base for her to play to. The flames made quarter notes in the air, instructing her to blow them on and carry the tune. Carry the song, Sivanna. The daunting whirlwind of flames and fury. Past the study... into the hall... let the music ring for all of Rhy'Din if need be. Play for them. Destroy them.
Let it burn.