Silence fell like an executioners axe, swift and judgemental. No breaths could be heard - on his part none were taken. One thing Stare had learnt in the past few months, and had sometimes still be shocked by, was because Vitruvion's body was fueled by raw divine energy he did not need to breathe, aside from to talk or out of wanting to seem mortal. With her his relaxed state seemed to take hold, and it had become a unique view to see the man entirely still, including the rising and falling of his chest. His eyes stared, truly, the minor muscles of his body that would otherwise twitch in a normal man simply fell away. Instead, he fell to full silence, gazing back with the absolute patience of a man who could literally wait forever.
Her on the other hand - she needed to breathe. Her body and her mind needed oxygen. Eventually she gasped, and her rate rose to thunder in her earlobes, violently shouting out it's exhileration as she considered what he had just said.
"I did .... what? But Ventrua is ... is, well half-"
"Goddess, indeed," Vitruvion spoke slow, his chest suddenly moving again as he filled his lungs with more air, in order to vibrate his vocal chords for speech. "Fairly powerful, rather closer to my level than you might expect, considering her half that is mortal. But indeed, she should be able to resist anything that you throw at her. But yet ..." He smiled slightly. "You had her stunned, my dear. Entirely caught, for a single second, but that was all that was needed. You remember, do you not? When you were telling her to deal with the accounts herself ..."
Stare blinked as her mind whirled back. Brow furrowing she tried to think of the time when she had done such a thing, and it had left Ventura dumb, stuck in that glazed over way that others she had stunned before, using the anger within. Searching, she tried to honestly remember, but the whole conversation had been so rapid and since then much more important issues had come to her attention - like the damn document.
"Here," he grunted, and the second finger of his right hand twitched. The same finger that had a dull grey metal ring on it, the same one that merged his mind to hers. Immediately an image filled her mind, of Ventrua at its centre. There she was, sitting ragged, breath short and sharp, eyes wide and dulled, lips open. Framed in it she was the picture of a perfect example of Stare's ability, an identifying marker of one of her genuine victims.
"You were watching?" Stare looked up to him, her eyes round like perfect pearls. For the image of Ventrua was clearly from his memories.
"Of course. I was looking for you anyway to give you news of your circumstance change. And I thought that particularly interesting." He reached up to flick a strand of hair back over his shoulder. "So, your stunning ability has grown. It is connected to your hatred yes?"
Slowly she nodded. And he smiled.
"Wonderful. Well you have more reason to hate me now, as you said before. That and every cruelty done to you by me and others in the Hollow, hate that. It is possible either your hate has grown, and that is fueling it, or you are merely more powerful."
Stare said nothing. In all honesty she did not want to admit that her hate for him had significantly deminished since leaving the Hollow. It was a horrible thing to even admit to herself, let alone others, mentally or verbally. Everything had changed for her since then - her life, her personality, her skills, her responsibilities. Vitruvion had said it, and she accepted it: he had given her a good life now. In that way her attitude towards him had altered. Yes, she still called him a bastard and a knobhead, but genuine regard had come to replace detest, and good esteem had taken away her single desire to see him suffer.
These things she did not want to admit, but she knew Vitruvion had seen them in time. Yet, he did her dignity of not mentioning them and merely raised his eyebrows slightly before moving on.
