The Hollow Part Two: Education (Mature)

[Stare]

It was a five minute walk down the long down-winding corridor that presented itself as the major avenue for the Hollow. Vitruvion eventually let his hand fall from Avis' shoulder, preferring instead to let her walk of her own accord beside her. It was a little service, however, as Raevin appeared from seemingly nowhere to stride in pace at Avis' heels, a long polished blade worn at his belt. With him strode the giant, as tall as he could get with his stature over seven foot, his massive club switched for a mace. Avis kept her eyes glancing over at Vitruvion, watching him, curious as to why he was so determined for her to keep quiet, but she said nothing, owing to her promise. Whatever his reasoning, she knew that forsaking his wrath had dire consequences that night, and besides, she had seemed to lighten his mood from its previous perverse dark fury.

The corridor eventually opened into a vaster area, blossoming out into a chamber that fitted better with the idea of it once have being ancient catacombs. A slightly domed ceiling, grey stone walls and vestibules big enough for stacked coffins made up the place. Opposite the entrance the corridor continued, curving downwards and away. The entire place was lit by a myriad of candles, tucked into the places where the coffins had been - long thin shelves in the walls. It uplit the scene in an spectacular glistening fashion, shimmering as the many lights danced their white and golden glow.

As Vitruvion entered, he stretched out a hand and calmly but surely took Avis' upper arm. She gasped, very lightly, as he pulled her closer to him, so their hips butted and his long coat could be felt against the edge of her leg.

"Vitruvion!"

A voice full of glee and uneasy brightness.

Looking up, Avis saw they were not alone in the room. Edging his way up from the opposite corridor was a short but handsome man, his body rippling with muscles. Wearing only a pair of loose trousers and a short jacket, the man raised one hand in greeting as he strode fast towards their group. His other hand was tightly clasped around that of a surprisingly young female human - Avis could have sworn she seemed just fourteen at most, an age she understood was under majority for humans - who stumbled with him, the majority of her body draped in imitate raunchy chainmail.

Vitruvion's mouth quirked up in a disgusted but smirking smile, "Frendir," he said in a low voice, his eyes spinning with broiling darkness. "How lovely to see you."

Frendir waved his free hand, coming to stand a few feet away from Vitruvion. His eyes briefly glanced at Avis, sweeping in her form with his eyes, then he turned back to the half-celestial. Behind him, half-jogging, two men of similar short stature came, both carrying short halberds.

"And lovely to see you," the man Frendir said.

It did not take long for Avis to figure out he was another brother - or, as Vitruvion called them, a 'host'. Frendir pulled his young female companion suddenly closer, with a jerk of his arm, causing the mail to chink. Aside from that the girl had no bonds and no cover. And she looked entirely down-hearted, not even bothering to raise her eyes to meet Avis' gaze.

"I see you still have Silence," Vitruvion spoke with obvious dislike for the man in his voice.

The other man seemed to not notice. He merely beamed and nodded, raising his spare hand to grab one of the girl's - apparently Silence's - breasts. The girl hardly reacted, only taking in a small breath and emptily continuing to watch the ground. Avis get confused. After all, Blaze had warned her above all not to lose her fight, for she had said that was what disappointed the brothers of the Hollow the most. But it seemed this girl had given up so long ago, yet still was in the hold of this man Frendir.

"Yes, I do," Frendir grinned. "And you have ... A new one?"

Avis felt the short man's eyes suddenly upon hers. She met them back with an intense burning fire, a heat and a power. She told him, in her glare, what she could not say - that she was a kenku, that she hated this place, and him, and she would make all attempts to escape when the opportunity arose.

Frendir's smile wavered, and fell somewhat.

[Stare]

"This is Stare," Vitruvion said slowly, the smirk on his lips growing. "A being known as a kenku."

"Stare indeed," Frendir murmured, and as Avis continued to gaze at him, she saw out of the corner of her eye his two lackeys become engaged with her also.

"Indeed," Vitruvion raised an eyebrow, watching the other man. "Any problems, Frendir?"

"No, none," Frendir said in a quiet, haunted voice, but he was still captured in her eyes.

Amused, Vitruvion let out a chuckle, and tapped Avis lightly on her arm. "Come, my girl. Time to cease and take our places."

As soon as she felt his touch, Avis looked away from Frendir. It was a reactionary process but as she did she realised she was obeying Vitruvion's direct command. The half-celestial just nodded at Frendir, who was standing there, still stunned, and then grabbed the join of her manacles. He twisted sharply to the right before setting off, pulling her in tow, heading for a door. He soon let go of the manacles, letting her follow of her own accord as he pushed through the door. His cane resumed its common thump on the ground.

The wooden door was set into the wall by a pair of brass screechy hinges. They screeched loud as Vitruvion opened it. As Avis followed him through, close behind her Raevin and the giant man, she let her eyes widen as she saw what lay beyond.

A great room. Bigger than any she had seen so far in the catacombs. Larger even than the hallway in the corridor now behind them. It was a high ceiled chamber, roughly octagonal in shape - Avis did not have time to count the sides. On each wall a different tapestry hung, in rich colours of red, purple and blue. Some were hooked back to reveal dark tunnels behind them, distant passages that spiralled into infinite, pointing each to the centre.

Ten chairs stood in a rough circle. Ten thrones laden with cushions and velvet. Each was made of a rich wood - teak, beech or elder oak - and each looked the seat of a king.

Two of the seats were currently taken, one by a proud man with grey hair and a large forehead. By his feet was curled a small, quaint little woman, older in age than most and with a small golden collar around her neck. This led to a gold chain, which was held limply by the old man.

Beside him sat a large creature that was clearly a half-orc. His huge form, heavy set eyes and small tusks made him a formidable sight. For him, there was no girl, instead he held his own and was speaking with the greying man with grunts.

As the door screeched open, they looked over to the company. The greying man smiled ever so slightly, and the half-orc inclined his head.

Vitruvion slowly regarded them with a slight smile as suddenly the room began to fill with life. From the dark tunnels beings began to emerge - strong willed men, some with beautiful women, and other men with weapons.

"My dear gentlemen!"

A familiar voice came. Avis tilted her head around to see Frendir, apparently having recovered from his moment of shock, creeping in behind them. With him he pulled the young girl, Silence. He strode straight past Vitruvion who curled his lip in distaste.

"Frendir," the greying man nodded. But his recognition was brief. Soon he was captured into new conversation by another, younger elf who took a seat.

Avis watched as various others, the majority of who were accompanied by females of various shapes and species, made to take their seats. Their various women either stood before them, sat on their knees or rested against their thrones. The guards, as well as the men Frendir had brought, took places behind their respective masters, leaning against the wall and else standing.

Slowly all took seats, placing themselves around the circle. Avis kept her eyes flickering over them, drinking into her memory all the faces of the ten wretches who ran this world. If she had a lip she would have curled it. As it was, instead she clacked her tongue against the inside of her beak.

A sharp rap onto her thigh. Painful, sharp. With irritation, she turned to glare at Vitruvion, but he was already moving. Forwards, onwards. It was at that moment that Avis realised he was the only one not sitting. As he moved the loud hum of conversation began to die.

"Gentlemen," Vitruvion coughed loudly. He raised a hand in abject greeting, a broad sweep of his eyes taking in all the men. "Gentlemen ..."

[Stare]

Silence fell. All eyes turned to him.

A slow smile grew on Vitruvion's face. Letting his hand fall he turned his face purposefully to Avis, catching eyes to her. Blinking, she looked back at him, confused and entirely uncertain as most eyes then turned to her.

With a dramatic gesture Vitruvion swirled his cane and pointed the end at the floor before the final, empty throne. Avis shifted uncomfortably, and wanted to spit right at him, but she knew ... Something told her that to even hesitate in this particular order, when all of Vitruvion's co-workers were staring at her, would mean instant and certain terror.

Therefore, she urged her body into movement. Fixing her eyes on Vitruvion's, she carefully picked her way forwards. She only dropped his gaze when she needed to, when she finally got the front of the final seat, and then could truly gaze around the people seated there.

Seven of the ten men, including Vitruvion, had girls with them. All seemed to be of various races and sizes, and some were there without bonds. Others, like Vitruvion, had clearly made a point of their bindings, either creating a 'matching set' of it, or turning it into art - much like that of the fake armour of Frendir's juvenile. Avis could now see the young girl's chainmail had thin chains from it twisting to constrain her movement of arms and legs. There was another man who clearly loved leather. He was a bearded fellow, and his beautiful female was draped in matching corset, manacles, collar and headpiece. She was scantily clad, but her face itself was covered with a dark veil so only her eyes appeared, and she wore long gloves along with thigh-high leather boots. Avis was concerned slightly, but knew these men were all wretches so did what they wanted.

The room remained in silence as Vitruvion took his final seat. Relaxing into it he grinned as he flicked up his cane and pressed it on Avis' shoulder. She rolled her eyes slightly but took a slow seat under his guidance. Then, with a smooth movement which she presumed was more for show than anything, he raised his legs and rested them over her shoulders. She let them sit there, her chest rising and falling slowly, her eyes keeping moving over the men, never dying in her vehement stare.

"It is good to see you all here," Vitruvion glanced at each one of the men in turn. His cane he rested on the ground, so in general he looked like a lounging princeling, lording over his people, whilst his slave concubine - Avis - bared the brunt of his demonstration of power. Slightly, she shifted, moving so it was easier to sit, and just as she did so he swung one leg up, balancing the ankle in the hold of the other.

Avis felt her heart race slightly as she came to the understanding that Vitruvion was the chair of this community. He bore it in his stance, in his attitude. He was proudly the speaker, and perhaps even more than that, as all were silent in his presence. It put her in a particularly strange powerful position, even despite her dislike of the situation.

[Stare]

"Last time we all met was three months ago. And we had ... Shall we say a pleasant conversation regarding the situation of various chambers of us. Since then we have gained a new brother," he looked over to a pale demon with fiery red eyes and a row of scale-like protrusions running down the centre of his skull. He smiled a fanged grin. "Tethion, who took Harik's position with ease. I trust, Tethion, you are taking to your inheritance well?"

Tethion's clawed hand, not dissimilar to Avis', curled around the hair of a surprisingly strong woman who sat on his knee. Her lips were pursed and she looked at nowhere with a strong purpose.

"I am thank you," Tethion spoke with a hissing, spine-chilling voice. "And I am delighted to be called a 'brother'."

Avis felt there was a myriad of stories within the man's words. When he said 'delighted' he pronounced​ each syllable with distinct pleasure.

Vitruvion continued, however. "To begin, then, we must vote if we all are satisfied with Tethion as our new brother." He looked around. "I for one am aye."

Everyone looked around the table to his right, where Frendir sat. The short, happy man seemed to glow with happiness that he was next.

"Aye, of course!"

Vitruvion nodded, and focus turned to the man right thereafter. A balding human with a scar down one side of his face.

"Aye," he gruffly said.

The turn order continued then. Avis learnt a few name: the half-orc was called Dru Blacktooth, and the older man beside him Gravelle. There was Pride, an unbound standing woman who spoke for her 'host,' Tongueless Tinash, after he gestured a little. After she was done he smiled and squeezed her butt. There was also the bearded man, with the leather clad and veiled female, who was close to Avis and Vitruvion but one to the left, and as his name got spoken, Avis felt herself drawn with interest.

"Hugin."

So far they had all votes aye. But as it came to this man who was the one who had angered Vitruvion so - and now jointly shared, if Blaze's words were anything to go by, the pixie princess, Reign - there was a long, uncomfortable pause.

"I vote nay, but we've got around so far, so it counts for naught, hmm?"

A freeze in the room. Some eyes remained on the bearded man, Hugin, who spoke with an air of arrogance, and some looked over to Tethion and still more to Vitruvion.

Utter silence. Hugin just stared at Vitruvion with a smirk and glistening eyes.

"Bah. Summim?"

The final person, a dark-skinned warrior from Fallien, spoke his agreement. It was left to Hugin to be the purposeful odd one out, something which clearly had altering motive, if his expression was anything to go by. Avis let her eyes wander over the man, tilting her head slightly as she felt Vitruvion adjust, sitting further up and pulling one leg off from her shoulder.

"Tethion, you join our brotherhood with a majority vote. Welcome."

[Stare]

The demon didn't seem bothered by the nay from Hugin, which seemed to have caused a great amount of consternation within the room. Even the lackeys and women were glancing at one another. But Vitruvion went on, nevertheless.

"Wonderful," Vitruvion faked a cheerful tone. "Now to other business."

One could just feel the tension in the room, it's tight tentacles of stress and ire twisting a suffocating hold.

"A petition has been filed by Tinash to move closer to the surface."

The murmur that rose then caughtAvis off guard. Frowning slightly, she tilted her head partly to catch Vitruvion's eye. He didn't look at her, however she did see the consternation crossing over his face.

Concern. Anxiety. What could the petition 'to move closer to the surface' mean? True, Vitruvion, her and the others had come down a sloping path today, the single corridor that led a spiralling path deeper into the earth. But did wanting to gain rooms further upwards just mean that?

"Talish, you already live in the centre of the Higher Level. Be content with that," one voice barked.

Another joined. "Your proposal means the rest of us need to move down, pig," the half-orc, Dru Blacktooth grunted.

"For those of us who would have to move," a sour tone came.

"Rich coming from you," the scarred man muttered.

"Gentlemen!" Vitruvion spoke in a louder voice than them all. Immediately the majority of them fell silent. Only the last one, the scarred man, remained speaking. He kept mumbling about the 'darker depths' and 'damp'. He leant forwards, moving his feet off Avis' shoulder.

The scarred man was still nattering on, and more began to continue joining back in. Vitruvion scowled deeply, tried to cough loudly again to get their attention. But the arguments were flying once more. It made Avis curious to know what sort of status being closer to the surface gave you.

Vitruvion grasped her shoulder suddenly and spoke whispers into her ear. "Look at Grund there. Give him your best hateful state."

Avis froze slightly, tilting her head so she could catch him out of the corner of her eye.

"You telling me who to hate now?" She murmured back.

Vitruvion's hold on her shoulder tightened to the point Avis had to bite back a wince.

"That was an order, Stare. And today you swore to obey my orders."

"I didn't-"

"Now!" He hissed, his teeth cracking.

Avis took in a breath and turned her eyes onto the scarred man. With her gaze she bore into him, thinking off all the hurtful times she had ever been through. The hurts and pains, the horrors and strifes. She thought of exactly how much she destested Vitruvion, and threw that into her glare. This, she centered towards Grund, locking her jaw, willing her strength into it.

It took a few seconds for the scarred man to see her stare. When he did, however, his eyes widened and he suddenly fell silent. Jaw still working, he looked like a fool, gazing back to Avis with absolute horror. Very similar to what she had done to Frendir out in the corridor - her stare, weaponised, used as a tool, a guard, an ability more powerfully than she had ever been able to use it before ...

Slowly the rest of the room quietened, all slowly noticing the way Grund was watching Avis, and vice versa. Movements stilled, gasps that escaped filtered to nothing, echoing into the void.

[Stare]

"What is she ...?" Whispered a voice.

"She is mine," Vitruvion was moving again, and the hand that was on Avis' shoulder pressed lightly before it moved up and over to balance on the crown of my head. She kept her breathing steady and sure, her gaze still. Grund was still captured by her, not able to look away. Not able to do anything.

"This is Stare," the half-celestial​ said with pride in his voice. "With an ability that is not magical in any way it seems." He leant back, his fingers tapping her skull. "That is enough, I think, my dear."

It took Avis a couple of moments to come to terms with what he said. With a blink she broke the eye contact and titled her head to watch Vitruvion. She could see him smirking, proud and content. He was not looking at her, but rather all around the room.

"Any petition for any of us to move is not to be taken lightly. But I shall remind you all of my take on where we are situated," he lifted his chin, looking at all the men one by one. "Where you are is nothing of import depending on your status. There are reasons that I hold place as both the chairman of our meetings, and being closest to the surface. We are ..."

He went on, but Avis didn't hear. For her heart began to hammer as she realised what he had just said. His chambers were near the surface. The nearest to the surface, of all the brothers in that room. That meant the day and the city of Beinost was far closer than she could ever hope. It was just above her head the entire time, and that meant she wouldn't need to try to get through all of the various rooms. She just needed to get to the entrance, to the door that led down here and that was now easier than anything.

If an opportunity presented itself, Avis would be sure to take it. If she was clever tonight, if she managed to keep Vitruvion satisfied at least, then perhaps security around her would be reduced. No more hobble, no more locked doors. She would have him believe of her loyalty, and come to the position that Blaze was in, with her two guards and no bonds. Carefully Avis could tread until all she needed to be was in the corridor, just a guard or two, and then ... Well. Whatever was happening with her eyes ... The power they seemed to have with the weaker willed of the world, everyone but Vitruvion ... Couldn't she use that? Whatever it was. Certainly things like this hadn't happened before but whatever was happening ...

"Madam?"

A sudden loud voice caught her attention. Blinking out of her thoughtful stupor, Avis looked over to where the word had come from. Her right shoulder, where a young woman, suitably dressed, bent down towards her baring a tray of brass goblets.

"Wha - what?" Dumbfounded, Avis replied.

The gorgeous woman smiled a dazzling smile. "You must be new. I am Desian, I work in the kitchens with my cousin Demer. Here," she gestured forwards with her tray. Avis caught the dark colour of swishing wine. And the stench.

"Ah," Avis paused, one eye dropping down to her bonds. She took a moment before realising she could get enough leeway with her upper arms only tied, and fairly loosely, to drink. Eyes locking with the kitchen girl Desian, she slowly took a goblet, if partly awkward.

Desian nodded and stretched up to continue offering drinks around the room. As Avis held her drink in her bound hands she noticed that other people in the room had them, and enough females were likewise precariously hoisting their drinks through the various bindings.

[Stare]

Apparently the conversation had moved on. There was less anger now, and the conversation was going through some form of apparent cleaning problem. Evidently the same people who cleaned for one set of chambers did them all. Avis had come back once from her voyages through Vitruvion's rooms to find her place tidied, the bathroom polished to sparkling.

Carefully she sipped her wine, able to cup the goblet and keep her eyes wandering around. She half listened to what was going on, only realising a few moments later that Vitruvion had returned to rest his feet on her shoulder. He was laughing a little, which bode well for her in terms of him being in a good mood. According to causal comments people were impressed by her, and Vitruvion was flaunting his capture of her.

"I am lucky in the fact that none of my three girls are messy. Kenkus hardly shed, if one wishes to know. They are extremely rare, and possess untold powers ..."

Untold powers. I have no idea what is happening, what you are doing to me, Vitruvion. It was a good conclusion to come to. After all Avis had only, from today, been able to freeze a man completely on the spot with her eyes. Before - well she had sent the fear of the Kami into some but not to such an extent as this. This was crazy, it had to be some form of influence of Vitruvion working through her.

Avis drank her wine, tilting her head back to rest it on the seat of his hair. She kept her eyes wandering, finding herself not the only one. The other women were conciously either watching the speakers or watching each other, a fair few of them intrigued in her. Naturally, of course, none spoke, but there was great emotion in some of the looks. Despite this, none stayed gazing at Avis for long, apart from the lady with the leather and the veil. Attached to Hugin. Avis held what she presumed was eye contact for a fair while several times, according to the light shimmering from under them.

"Of course," came a voice. Avis was drawn to it by the fact Vitruvion physically recoiled at its sound. It was also the voice that had refused to agree with the appointment of the brother Tethion. She looked around to see Hugin grinning.

"Of course Vitruvion, you shall be saved from having to worry about as much mess, and as much cleaning to organise. For, as we discussed two hours ago, Reign will be moving into my chambers." He paused, looking down at his leather tethered and veiled companion. "Won't you my dear?"

Suddenly the room fell deathly silent. As silent or nearly as so silent as when Avis had stared at the man. Used her apparent power or some such. All eyes focused onto Hugin and his girl who nobody could have known the identity of until now. Apart from him.

Avis' heart thumped. She knew the name Reign. Reign was the girl that Vitruvion and Hugin now owned, the one Vitruvion had recently allowed to he shared, owing to Hugin's interest in her. The one Vitruvion had had first, and now Hugin was daring to say that he wanted her to move into his home. Two hours ago apparently they had discussed it. No wonder Vitruvion had been so mad.

And now, Hugin had done the unbelievable and brought her with him. Dared to spite Vitruvion in his face and show him that he was now the one to hold onto the majority of the pixie princess. Bending down he gently tweaked the veil back and over her head to reveal the kind, gentle face of the fae royal.

Blonde hair. Blue eyes, elvish features and long tapered ears. Definitely some form of fairy. Tall, but elegant, if her skin tight corset, boots and gloves were anything to go by. All dressed in the leather that was very likely Hugin's pont-chant and not Vitruvion's ropes.

Avis' heart sank. Out of realisation that all she had managed tonight would now no longer help Vitruvion's temper. Here he was, the chairman of the Hollow, dishonoured and disrespected, though through legal ways since he had been the one to make the agreement to share Reign. Perhaps making it all the worse.

[Stare]

Clang!

Suddenly, the goblet previously in the half-celestial's hand was thrown across the room. It slammed into the wall, narrowly avoiding a man with a hatchet. Luckily he ducked. It smashed across a tapestry and bled it red with the wine.

The goblet in Avis' hand was then siezed, ripped from her hold. This was then chucked to the close right of Hugin's throne. Vitruvion stood, anger and hatred flooding his system - Avis could feel it writhing through him. Heart racing she began to hope, wish, that Hugin would suddenly beg for forgiveness and hand Reign back over. Reign at least looked apologetic, sad.

"This meeting is OVER!" Vitruvion roared. "NOW!"

And he, full of fury turned. His eyes dropped down to glare at Avis, and once more she saw the ire, the disgust, the horror from before.

"Fuck," she murmured to herself.

"Up," he commanded her. Heart thumping in her chest, Avis did not move, frozen in shock. Eyes full of darkness, Vitruvion slammed the end of his cane on the cobbles of the floor and screamed. "Stare. Get UP!"

He began to raise his cane again. She winced. And pulled herself to her feet, eyes dropping away from him. Remember to keep him happy, she tried to remind herself. Remember your new plan to escape.

But keeping him happy tonight, she knew, was going to cause her agony. Physical and mental. Harshly he gripped her shoulder and began to shove her forwards. Taking her own initiative, however, Avis moved, coming out of the shove with a quiet controlled step and she started heading for the door. Eyes down, self-control alive and reigning she went where she was sure he wanted her to go to.

Make him happy, she thought. Do as he expects tonight, heal his anger. Then he will trust you more. Then your time to escape will come.

Raevin raised his brow at her stride, but he said nothing. Going before her he opened the door to the chamber, letting the squeal enter into the world of stunned silence. Without looking at any of then other brothers once, Avis stepped out of this world and into the corridor one, pausing long enough for the giant of a man to take a place beside her. Then she set off.

There was a relatively long time before the clink clink of Vitruvion's cane told them he had caught up. When it did Avis said nothing, but paused enough to show she was waiting for him.

She told herself again: keep him happy. Let him take out his anger. Encourage him to trust you.

[Stare]

What had been before five minutes was three this time. As they got to what Avis knew was Vitruvion's chambers, she paused, before watching Raevin take charge and head towards the door. He opened it onto a small room, filled with a chaise Lange and a desk - Vitruvion's personal study that was clear. Then he went to open another room - a massive bedroom not unlike her own. Except grander. Orange instead of red. Gold flashes, furniture of mahogany and mystic objects.

Still they went on. Into another room, with another bed. Except this one was barer. Objects that were more at home in a medieval dungeon than here. The bed itself after all was perhaps as comfortable as the one in the other room (four poster and laden with cushions) but had so many short chains, manacles and circles cut into its structure that it could only be for the desire to show power.

Avis came to a halt just beyond the entrance of the room, eyes staring haphazardly around. At all the equipment, comforts and rope that would surely be the doom of her day. Raevin turned to look at her, an effort of a smile appearing on his face, then he nodded and turned to stalk back to the door.

Turning to follow him with her eyes, Avis saw Vitruvion enter the room. And she froze with the pitiless torments she saw in his eyes. The very same she supposed others saw in hers sometimes. Hatred, rage, tempestuous malicious intent.

Now she was the one gazing in a mixture of apprehension and fear. Of what he was going to do to her. Of what she had agreed to.

"You swore to me that you would do everything I wanted you to tonight," Vitruvion's voice was heated and passionate, his eyes embers. "And now I hold you to that. And to my promise of punishment. Any hestiance, any hint of disobedience from now on until I am finished with you and I will let Raevin have you directly. Right here, in front of my eyes. And he will then give you to the others, for one whole week, even longer until I am satisfied. Do you understand Stare?"

No hesitance. Her breath was fast, but she found herself nodding slowly, trying not to begin crying. Trying so hard.

Vitruvion seemed to develop from that. Arching out a sweep of his arm he gestured over to what could only be described as a piece of exercise equipment, found in the great gymnasiums. It was a piece of padded wood, formed into a form of seat with large heavy iron and wood legs holding it up. Clear metal cuffs were attached to the legs.

"Go over there," Vitruvion hissed, "And I want to see you lash your own ankles in."

She breathed in sharp, and her eyes dropped pointedly down to what she was already trussed up and pacakaged in. The half-celestial ground his teeth together and angrily gestured. Raevin came forth, a small blade out and cut through her bonds as fast as he dared. The frayed ends of rope fell to the ground like sorrowful rain, cascading around her crow feet. All that was left was her manacled hands and those she could still work with.

Her eyes closed partly before she took in her breath. Looking up to Vitruvion she held eye contact with his livid gaze and knew that he was entirely serious with his promise. Twisting her head away she began to make her own slow and apprehensive steps towards the adapted device. As she got there Raevin held out fresh coils of soft rope. Her hands shook as she stared at them for a while before she pushed her will to overpowering and stepped up onto a block which Raevin pushed into place. With that in place she bent down and began to weave the rope around her ankle, her heel and her leg, and lash it gently to the hoop there.

"Tight," Vitruvion ordered, as he moved behind. "Tight, so you cannot escape."

[Stare]

When she was done her own legs, spread far to either side, Raevin had lashed her elbows - keeping her hands still bound in favour of the filigree manacles - to the front legs. Vitruvion had then released his anger, thrashing her beyond belief and not just with his cane, but with a horse riding crop. What followed suit was only flashes of memory as Avis drifted in and out of realisation, trying to balance the pain with obeying Vitruvion's word.

She remembered being removed from the table, crying out when hands had brushed her sores. She remembered seeing flurries of feathers bursting into the sky. She remembered being on the bed, unable to move because of the pain. She also remembered being strung up, hands high into the sky, Vitruvion moving against her as she cried out in agony and him ignoring her. She remembered sobbing, hating herself and hating the pain but still doing as he asked. Over and over, once more, barely able to stay concious at times.

When she awoke the first thing she noticed was the agony. It rippled through her like a river of fire, lancing from skull to foot claw with the wrath of Hadia. Gulping large amounts of air was all she could do to not fall back into unconciousness. Eyes rolling back into her skull she chomped back an eternity of screams, shaking and spasming as her body realised it had been so abused.

As her body fell still, collapsing her form back upon whatever surface it had begun from, she swallowed hard. And tried to be as relaxed as possible, for moving meant muscles tensing and flesh contorting and that meant pain. She found a place to rest her head, warm, smooth, formed by the gods.

Her eyes flashed open. Unable to properly move it was all she could do to gaze around her, stare around, taking in the situation by sight only. Her hand she tried to move, but that too seemed to cause fearful trembling when she did so it was up to her eyes to find the source of this warmth.

It was just as she feared. Disgust came into her chest as she saw she was sprawled across the same bed as the night before, and had her head resting on the brute who had done this to her. Her cheek was on his chest - hence the perfectly formed part, her hands were curled by his waist. And his arm - well it was around her, holding her, horrifically cuddling her, dare one believe it.

Nausea came to her throat, and not just because of the pain. Because of him. Still here. With her, clearly having rested the whole of the night with her as his anger was satiated. Her beak opened with a shiver of unhealthy horror and she found herself letting out a strangled, coughing quiet cry of despair. Which led to another cough. Then a splutter. Then a wretch which wrecked her whole body, causing her to convulse as she screamed out, the acidic taste rising. Turning over, twisting achingly she rolled to the side of the bed and vomited right onto the ground.

Shaking, she stayed there, her whole body screeching at her that there was something very wrong.

Very wrong indeed.

Seconds past. She did not move, only gasped for breath. Behind her she felt the second person on the bed begin to waken. Then pause, and move.

The balance of the bed changed various times, but Avis kept herself there, at the edge, prepared for any more sick. Behind her came a sigh, the sound of footsteps and then a whisper.

"You did very well."

She didn't answer. She didn't want to answer him.

More seconds passed, and it felt as if the world was wanting to drown her, pulling her into the deep black void called despair. Longingly, she let it come this time and melted into a less concious state.