[Irn League] The Zen Of War

[Briarheart]

I could never actually tell whether or not the faun hated my guts and would rather see them spilled on the floor rather than kept safe and snug inside my body.

It was all in the mix signals that came from her stance and posture. Her hand gripped the hilt of her blade, fingers curled across the grip, the muscles of her arm tensed and ready to pull steel and cut me in two. And yet she stood there, relaxed and aloof, a slight pop of her hip as if we were two friends standing in a hallway, chatting about the weather.

It infuriated me to no end. Nothing about the way she presented herself gave me any idea what I was to expect. The last few times we crossed paths, I suggested that her side aspirations were treasonous, had her brothels attacked, and spat on her fox.

Speaking of Veridian, where the seven hells was that socialite's unprocessed scarf? That little bastard always had a knack for jumping into streams of acid that I threw around. Did he finally learn his lesson and stay home?

Probably not. Animals aren't that intelligent; blindly obedient ones even less so.

“I've been... I've been well enough, I suppose,” I answered Philomel's inquiry with a sigh. “It's been a long few months. I'm not sure if you heard, but I left the Hand again. I disagreed with Ulroke's handling of that Red girl he... shall we say, brought into the fold.”

Kidnapped and brainwashed, more like. But I'm sure the former Master of Secrets already knew about her.

“Rather than try and fix things myself again, I did what I do best: Ran away.” I shrugged, removing my leather gloves and sliding them into a pocket on the interior of my vest. I would need my hands free to build up acidic crystals in case things got a bit too heated between us.

“I grabbed Hype--you've met her, right? I grabbed her, my most important notes from the Sanctum, and found a little place in Concordia to hide in. It's actually quite peaceful. I'm left alone by the outside world, and nobody who has my name on a list has been able to find me yet. I take a walk to the shores of a small lake every morning, do a bit of reading and meditating, and I'm back in time for a late lunch and some experiments in the basement.”

Something was definitely off here. What was she waiting for?

Amber light flashed in my eyes as I continued rambling. “I had my soul taken from me, though. That kind of sucked.” I unconsciously began popping my knuckles one by one. “Some flea-bitten catgirl took it from me. But she also ripped the last bits of Pode from my body, so I haven't had any malevolent voices floating around in my head for a couple months now. It's great, let me tell you. I'm free to be my own woman again. However, my research has suffered somewhat. More explosions and dead things and mutations that need to be put down than I've ever had to deal with before. I'm starting to think that Pode lingering around in my body and mind guided my hand whenever I was in the laboratory. If that's the case...?” I shook my head. “Good riddance. I am okay with losing my scientific acumen if it means I'm rid of her for good.”

I kicked at the ground, scuffing my polished leather shoes against the uniformally-trimmed blades of green. She should have struck by now. I've been rambling for minutes now, and she still has that blank look on her stupid fucking face.

I tried to ruin her life based on a nagging suspicion. I tried to kill her darling little Veridian on multiple occasions. Every rational person would've ran me through, pinned me to the ground, and stomped my sharpened teeth down my gullet by now. She's five fucking feet away from me, certainly within striking distance!

Here I was ready for a fight, and instead I'm having not-dinner with an old not-friend. What the fuck was wrong with her?

I had enough of this shit. The heat was building in my neck and chest. A small amount of acid began to pool on the surface of my right hand, ready to be flung in her face. “What's wrong,” I seethed, the annoyance starting to boil into anger. “I've given you ample time to land the opening blow. You aren't here for conversation, you're here for battle. So what's the problem?”