RP: Lorath [SAINT-Lazarus] Operation: "Oroboros"

"I am not a simple sadist, I am not a Machiavellian villain, I am a professional. It would be poor form, and would result in a blemish upon my future potential dealings with your Matriarchy, perhaps your family, or even you, if I were to break my word to you. After all, this is a mission of espionage at this time, not assassination, nor sabotage, or armed intervention as of this juncture. Just the same as I make my intentions clear if you misbehave, I make the same commitment toward your continued prosperity if you do as I need of you." Helen stated simply, and flatly, as she kept eye contact firmly upon Lalah. "Those are the terms. There is little to nothing else that need be addressed, you comply, you cooperate, you prosper, and all you hold dear carries on as the Goddess wills."

There was a momentary break in Helen's demeanor though, as a smile crossed her lips; "Though, no, I can not say I treat all my 'customers' the same. You're in on a premium plan, paid for with your usefulness and a purpose."

Lalah watched through tightly clenched teeth, grumbling in a voice she thought was at the very least tolerant of Helen's flippant way of describing the last few weeks of misery Lalah had to endure.

"And when you don't need me? I'm a witness. I know what happens to witnesses. I want that that won't happen in writing, both for myself and the rabbit. And ... The dog" she paused. She hated using that term. The taste in her mouth was bitter, though that could have been the bruised gland beneath her tongue and that ... Curious metallic taste where her tooth used to be. She reached, lips parting as she began feeling along her molars with her fingertips. What was that?

"You act as if I am obligated in some way to acknowledge your concerns, and negotiate in some sort of bargaining process." Helen spoke, her voice carrying a distinctive mock amusement with the entire concept. "This is a simple matter of espionage, when I am done, witnesses will not matter. I am acting in the interest of the alliance in which your Matriarchy is a part of, and because of this, know that your compliance serves the best interests of your Matriarchy, and your non-compliance acts directly against it, so acting as some sort of 'whistle blower', will only serve to undermine the interests of your people, perhaps even the interests of your family." There was a subtle hint there, perhaps even the shadow of a threat, but it was soon swept away.

As a sudden shift in topic, curiosity grasped Helen on a matter, or perhaps, it was just her finding a reason to detour Lalah's thoughts; "Your bonded animal, do you still keep it? I would think it would be hungry by now, even with the metabolic rate of a reptile."

Lalah's eyes slowly shifted, set aside now. She could feel a bitterness in her guts. "Well..." she began before a mind trapped beneath mountainous lag and need caught up with her. This was different. This was a change. Helen has changed the topic. Is there something here she knows I didn't, that made her want to change the topic? Why is she suddenly defensive, with a threat? Why would she--

And then a low bassy gurgle, her body tightening as her belly spoke.

"Why?"

"I would rather not have you crying over a starved companion when this is underway." Helen replied, her gaze unwavering, there was nothing she was skirting around, but instead, she had softened the blow of the threat which she had just made, a threat to encourage compliance. Seeing the way that Lalah responded made a smile again cross those purple clad lips, it was the seed of 'I warned you' which would perhaps be spoken at a later time, if Lalah were to cross the agent.

"While you feed your companion, here is something to think on; what reason do you have for non-compliance? What motivation do you have to carry on with being defiant? Why resist something when there is no justification to do so?"

"She lives with my mother. She has a big tank in her office. An enclosure. Bigger than my apartment. Probably this whole floor. Lots of trees, foliage. Running water. Animals. A miniature eco-system" Lalah began.

"There's a whole staff of 20 people devoted just to looking after her and guarding her." There was a twinge of something, a lump in her throat. That level of protection. Aid. Isolation. Coddling. Empathy, yet bitterness.

"An endangered species that could... Probably make a city block uninhabitable if left to their own devices."

Helen listened, not so much to the facts, but the tone of Lalah's words, the way she spoke of her companion animal. "You have quite the expectation to live up to." she started, before gently touching Lalah's damaged horn beneath her finger tip, caressing it slowly. "I've done my studying, and to my understanding, reptilian species on your world are social creatures, brood oriented, at least of the species that you've chosen to aspect yourself after. You are quite commitment oriented, aren't you?"

Lalah resisted the instinctive urge to tip her head quizzically as if a gun were planted against her, firmly nestled along the underside of her jaw. The look to do it was in her eyes, even her expression but this once very common figure of self-expression that was text-book Lalah never happened. Briefly, her eye flashed to those fingertips before returning momentarily.

"What else is there?"

"Nothing else, really." Helen spoke in earnest, her gaze locked on Lalah's own. There was no question from either of them on the importance of commitment, the need to fulfill a purpose, not for the self, but for those who would expect it. For Helen, it was her duty as an agent of the Empire, it was her duty to herself, and for this iteration of Helen that commitment was all the more pressing.

Helen studied the gaze of the Lmanel as she spoke "Does it hurt to be away from your companion?" and as she asked her question, her fingers continued to move, before sliding through Lalah's hair. "There must be unquestionable trust between you and your mother, if you would allow her to watch over a creature that is practically an extension of you... trusting your mother is good, it is the proper thing for a good daughter of the Matriarchy to do."

"You've... You've heard about kou, don't you? The idea that... Amongst Lorath, what one person feels, the other pick up on, even if they cant' see her face. Some theorize its probably why we're one of the last seriously religious states in space who practice instead of just believing..." Lalah began, very careful with her words, tenuous. This wasn't rehearsed or instinctive and from the way she was speaking, this wasn't something you spoke about with outsiders, either.

"Orthodox aspectation goes both ways. You change. They change. Its very dangerous, but its also very thorough. Its why I can be as young as I am, but as developed as I am."

She was building toward something.

"Delta-wave sensitivity." Helen remarked in response, firmly inserting the sharpened edge of the Yamataian take on Occam's Razor, ruthlessly cutting away theories outside of the realm of science. Though, she spared a shred of the topic, as she let out a soft breath of speech; "Every time we involve someone in our lives, we exchange something, a piece of ourselves. What matters, is when a piece is taken forcefully, or when we share it willingly." as she spoke those words, Helen's finger nails gently raked against Lalah's scalp, providing a gentle scratching stroke, before her hand rested upon the back of Lalah's head, grasping lightly, practically cradling her skull as she entertained the Lmanel's discourse.

"Its not just thaaa...that" the L'manel felt her body begin to tighten up: a lump in her throat as she fought to clear her voice: Her head tipped back: Nostrils flaring, eyes transfixed on Helen like an animal wanting to strike.

"And you want a piece of me as insurance is that it? I became like her. She became like me. Given how much sm...marter she is now, keeping her in captivity is really dangerous."

"Whenever two souls cross paths, there is always a piece exchanged. It is what we do with that piece that matters. Perhaps by extension, that is what makes the person who that piece belongs to matter." Helen's words rolled from her lips, her tone was soft, maybe even encouraging as well. "Captivity..." she mused in a word, "Captivity for someone like you can only last so long, that is why we're here, and you're so much warmer right now." there was a breath of a laugh in that moment, as Helen's fingers continued to work upon Lalah's scalp, while her grasp on her shifted, as she began to move the Lmanel so she would be laying across her lap. "People and things that are marked as in the service of another, are always at hand, no matter how far they may roam, they still carry the brand that sets them apart. I do not have to cage you, to keep you."

"No leash, either?" Lalah's back was arched over Helen's thighs, belly exposed: Pillows propping her head up. Toned muscle tensed and twisted like water wrung from a hot towel as a grunt squeezed in her throat: A bead of sweat down her front as her breathing became slower, hotter and heavier. Nerves unknown to most sung by hands that took the time to read the biology of the beast she walked with.

"Some day I'll... B-Bite you. It'll be wonderful." her voice almost sang as she felt herself arch involuntarily again. "We'll both b..be better off for it."

"Leashes are not always in the form of a chain. Leashes come in many forms, and I promise you that everyone has a leash. It is just a matter of who is holding it, and when." As she imparted that touch of wisdom Helen took to sliding her hand over the taut muscles set out before her, caressing as if she were noting every detail, though, her genuine focus was upon the face of the Lmanel in her lap, as she responded to the Lmanel's longing desire mingled with a hollow threat; "Unless the taste is too bitter, then you may have regrets."

One hand resided upon the belly of the Lmanel, while the other had other intentions, touching upon Lalah's thigh, caressing along each tendon, before moving high enough to make the intentions of that exploring hand quite clear. "You've been good though, keeping that desire restrained, you've been good in listening, and you've been good in sharing. I'll give you a reward for that, something to help you keep that focus." Her intruding hand made quite the implication as to what that reward was to be.

Each time Helen's fingertips glided over that dark bronzed body, the parts beneath tightened and flexed: her breath tightening as dark brown toes splayed out into strange shapes. Sweat tickled over her body. In only a few minutes, parts of her were responding that she'd prefer didn't: A lip rising to reveal her teeth as she tucked it beneath her thigh, squeezing the pair together to conceal herself. Her hand moved to cover her mouth: eyes aside as she cleared her throat and spoke. The knew Helen was not in the business of taking no for an answer: that she was walking on thin ice. She had to be diplomatic.

"N...No thank-you. I ...I appreciate your ...Hospitality, miss Klein but you needn't bother yourself.."

In Yamatai-Go no less. She was really trying.

Fingers, seemingly so delicate, yet each possessing the strength to break flesh and bone at a touch, continued their attentive exploration of the Lmanel beneath their touch, as the woman they belonged to leaned to place her gaze upon Lalah's own squarely, as Helen smiled a way that would have belonged upon the ritual mask of a Lamnel bonding to a Xa'laxxikka... it was the smile of a monster of love and death. "Not a bother at all... If anything, it is a joy to be able to give such a gift to someone." spoke the monster of a Nekovalkryja, as her exploring touch came to rest upon Lalah's hip, though, there was also a touch of intent.

Helen's hand which had been teasing over Lalah's belly had made an ascent, touching, stroking, teasing over the Lmanel, only halting once the ascent was completed; her finger tips began to stroke over the Lmanel's shoulders, before her lightly raking finger-tips soon teased upon the Lmanel's neck, and soon went far enough as to strip away the thin band of cloth which would have been present to conceal the Lorath's most taboo piece of flesh, the neck, so supple and vulnerable. Helen's touch intruded far more than it would have if the 'diplomatic' decline of her offer had not been made. "Mm... maybe I could just show my praise for your behavior another way?"

Every inch of the poor L'manel's body was frozen: Muscle bunched up, locked, tight and hard. Her breath was thin: slow and thin, a shake as it escaped her; golden eyes locked in the exchange of gazes she felt was akin to some strange game of chicken. In reflex, her hand moved almost instantly as the fabric came away: Years of conditioning making her palm clap against it. But what Lalah felt was not her neck, or her cloth.

Surprise boiled behind her eyes: a grunt crushed beneath the heel of fear in her throat. To place a hand over another in such a way, rather than beneath was... Actually quite forward. She flinched, letting go. But her elbow was still up. Arm still back. Exposed belly twisting: wringing breath out of her and knotting in marbled form.

And yet her eyes were calm; her mind and her body were having two separate physiological reactions: the L'manel half of her visibly terrified and whatever else was in her dripping with apathy. And the whatever else was gaining ground.

"I'm perfectly fine, thank-you."

Lorath this time. With crisp emphasis.

Careful measurement and judgement were a cornerstone of any craft which called for the reshaping of the brittle and malleable alike, what was laid across Helen's lap was a mix of both, but she was not deterred in the slightest by the hot-and-cold of the Lmanel she looked upon. Brittle, rigid, and tense took time to hone, with too much force only resulting in something that is broken, while an excess of force would simply ruin that which is easily molded. What Helen knew full well, was that time was needed to find a balance between the two. "No desire for praise, hm? I can understand that." There was a withdraw from the engagement, any further, and Helen knew she would be treading too far too soon to maintain the Lmanel in the condition she wanted her. Though, the iron was hot, and it needed to be quenched.

There was a sudden shift of Helen's hands, as she grasped Lalah from beneath, before simply flipping her off of her lap. "No desire for praise, means I will not waste time on offering it. Grab three days of clothes, and any travel necessities you need. I do not want you reeking like Helashio. We have work to do, and I still must prepare you to do your part." Helen's tone shifted from the sweetness of praise and affection, to the chill of a professional at work again. It seemed, that Lalah had managed to not only decline her praise, but, also any rest from Helen's ministrations which were clearly back on the agenda.

I tried the soft-hand, now I need to be more pragmatic. She declined the opportunity to do this the civilized way, she brought it on herself.

Being locked in freezers -- meat-lockers -- hand-cuffed with her arms up over her head and the weeks, nearly months of mindgames. The locker she particularly despised. Was it all going to happen again? Was she going back?

Golden eyes stared at Helen over the back of her shoulder. What had washed through her was sobering. Her knees met the ground. Though she'd been low to the ground many times under Helen's presence, Orthodox Lorath normally made a point of cultural fixation never to let one's knees meet the ground when crouching: that was something slaves did. The bitterness was palpable. Breath quickening. Anger. But for the first time in maybe weeks, not at Helen. Her feet guided her upright and then into the kitchen.

There was silence for nearly a quarter of an hour before a sound was told to Helen's ears.

Banging could be heard; clunking of heavy wooden fixtures giving way, silverware spilled. Things ripped out of the walls. Prized ceramic pots Lalah had spoken for hours with Helen about and spent weeks mending with pyrite glue and orianu training flew. They raced through the kitchen door-way and out, crumbling and shattering weakly against the far wall from Helen. A grunt each time. Then she was striking framed photographs. And even the mirror. Shouting. And screaming.

The racket lasted a while before washing away. It was replaced with silence for the longest time. Quiet enough to hear vehicles moving outside and the foot-steps of those above them. And then sniffling broke the silence.