Sive hardly saw any recognition in the omen's face, she'd been so wrapped up in the threat of his hand crushing her windpipe. And with her back to him as she crept into the water, he was left to fend for himself. Though ears did pick up on his words, and she twisted ever so slightly to finally catch sight of him. A touch, something pulling her near made her freeze. At least she tried to freeze, but her body easilly moved where it was willed. Never once, she thought, did her breath leave her quietly. Feeling weighed down by the fabric she wore, afraid of her body giving out on her and going under, she reached to grip onto Tariq without really thinking on it. She would use him as a form of leverage, something to hold onto while he explored her.
There was little new, hair was longer, she still held a brand over her heart from her last master, piercings he had given her, but that was it. Perhaps there might be something different in that voice, as if it pained her more than usual to use it. But it was possible that was because of an omen's abuse. "I came for a bath, Sir." Bruised flesh, when touched, made her flinch and suck in a gasp, but otherwise she was as still as possible, even though she did not want those touches. Head bowed some, because she was ever willing to serve, but still she trembled, afraid of what might be in store for her now.
---
Fabien's back straightened almost immediately, and his skull turned just enough so that one sharp pupil moved to regard the bat. Gradually he rose to his feet, his bony hands still trembling gently at his sides. The omen was painfully slow in his actions, his steps faltering as he turned back toward the water' edge. "I don't... remember why I'm here," he rasped softly. There was no plea within his voice yet, but it haunted the edge of his words with disastrous promise. The boy began to prowl the edge of the water, his eyes lingering only briefly on Sive, before they turned away. He struggled to look on her for long. Eventually the cursed creature rediscovered the stone steps he had only just crawled from, and began to re-enter the water until it lapped about his thin ankles. His foxen tail sparked into life, crackling the air in his wake as though it sought to pull him back from those dark waters and away. "Qui est-elle?" He enquired softly, his eyes fixated upon the vampire.
Those eyes did not settle on Sive again, they moved within the space around her. "Qui est-elle, Monsieur?" The omen's fingers moved to caress over the taunt muscles of his stomach, his palm flat as it slipped over his scar ridden ashen skin. It was as though he was searching, in this action, for some answers to his own question. As if in that embrace between them, there had been left some trace as to why he suddenly felt so strange, so sickly. He remained where he was, the water just a little below his knees, frozen in place.
---
Tariq savoured the gasp that rose when he pressed the pads of his fingers into bruised flesh but did not unnecessarily prolong her pain. He allowed her to cling to him until his hands were satisfied with their exploration. “Then you will have it,” he assured in a soft serpent’s hiss into her ear. “First you will rinse my fox of his blood.” The achingly sharp points of his teeth and deadly sprawl of his claws hinted at pain, pain, such terrible pain, but when he nudged her forward, back into the water and close to the agitated omen, it was with tenderness. His ears flicked upward at the boy’s perturbed question and the ghost of a smile haunted his black lips. “Do you not remember her, beloved?” He lazily turned back to the last of the blood still crusting his fur. “She is-- ah. Not your friend.” There was something of guarded menace in the look with which he blindly regarded the feline, nostrils flaring.
“She does as I say. Let her tend to you.” This too a command, his fangs clicking together at the last.
---
Sive felt tears tremble over cheeks again when she heard words from Fabien that broke her heart. She wondered what she could have done to have the memory of herself taken away from her dear friend. But she didn't look at him, instead focused on the vampire, who held precedence. He who needed to be heeded well before the omen. Her touch did not leave him until she was pushed away, at which point she slowly made her way to Fabien, eyes downcast, searching for his reflection. And then she froze suddenly, ears flat against her skull and eyes wide. She found her own reflection, dark and unrecognizable. There was a sharp sound of water shifting around her as she turned to stare at the vampire as if he'd just reached into her chest and tore out her heart, and was now holding it in front of her with a cruel grin. "Why?" More tears, and she struggled to keep herself upright.
"What did I do?" A sniff and she'd turn to face Fabien again, this time seeking out his eyes, which she expected little from. "I would do anything." She glanced back again. "Anything. If you killed me, I would strive to rise up, just to do as you say." Well probably not, because then she would be dead. "What did I do? How do I fix it?"
---
Fabien sunk onto the step, the deepest part of the bath he dared enter so far. With his old joints cracking softly, he settled upon the step until the water just eased over his hips. Still his vibrant eyes were upon his master, though his features relaxed when an answer was given and his anxieties laid to rest. No friend, no connection to his past, no intimate bond that tied them together. Just another slave wandering the halls at night, some unfortunate stranger who had disturbed them and was now lost. And her sweet misery was evidently intoxicating to the suffering starved omen, who bestowed gentleness only on his favourites. Now, and at last, his eyes fall back upon Sive, watching her approach him as though she'd been instructed to place her head within the jaws of a wolf. "She says strange things, Monsieur," he wheezed. One of the boy's forearms fell to rest upon his knee, but his other hand extended toward the confused feline, and one finger beckoned.
"Come then, closer to me, cherié." Fierce desire made the boy's muscles tight beneath his flesh, and once again it seemed something dark and absent was working its way into his youthful features. Now, she was caught between them both. The bat and the spike eared omen, with his lashing tail and beckoning finger.
---
Tariq did not look up from the work of his clever hands at the sound of the feline turning to tearfully question him. Idly, he inclined his head, strands of ghostly hair falling over his shoulders. “She does as I say-“ he repeated delicately, the menace growing more naked as it sharpened his words. “- because she is clever enough to know what happens if she does not.” He took a half-step nearer to her, the dark water washing against his waist, the space in which the wretched girl was trapped growing smaller and tenser. The braziers had fallen to a smolder this early in the morning, their soft orange light a mere glow that bathed the room in dusk. The vampire turned a sharp ear to the omen’s observation. “Oui,” he agreed in a soft hiss. “Pay it no mind. She speaks for me.”
---
Sive felt like she should die. Take away the pain. But not in the water. The water was scary. Shoulders crept high, nearly meeting cheeks. Her legs gave out and she sagged deeper into the water, fear glazed eyes recognizing what she'd just done. Don't anger the bat, slave. He would eat her. She turned and inched closer to the omen, ears low and tail trying desperately to curl between legs. He beckoned, and the vampire herded her closer, and so she came to do the work meant for a stranger. Trapped, and having no intention of trying to escape, she fell silent instead, holding onto choked sobs and the whine of each aching breath. Destroyed, the slave shifted close to Fabien, where she would cup water and lift it to the wound at his throat, letting water wash away what was left behind.
---
Fabien in that moment, believed the bat's words without a flicker of hesitation. From this position, bent with his chest leant forward, his mutilated throat was easily accessible. The horrible depth of the wound revealed in all its glory. The cut was not entirely jagged, but the skin had yet to fuse together. It was little wonder he was still able to speak at all, nor move. It was evident the omen cared little about whether the blood was cleaned from him, but he did care extensively for the agonised creature to move in closer to him. He bowed his head a little for her, the light of his eyes flickering like gas lamps. Now they were together again, she'd likely feel his heavy breath upon her ear, each warm flush. But the longer they lingered together, the colder that breath became, until something within him seemed to faintly crackle and buzz like an old generator sparking into life.
"Be gentle, cherié, it stings," Something seemed to shudder through him anew, and the omen's hand extended sharply to grip Sive's wrist, forbidden her from seeking more water to cleanse his wounds. He sought to twist her arm painfully behind her back, hard enough to make the tender joints grind miserably. "Non... non, something is wrong. Pourquoi est-elle si triste?" He snarled, suddenly frustrated by his own longing, and the strange sensation he obtained from having Sive close. He pulled the feline hard into his chest, and one lean hand snaked over her collarbone until he sought the throb of her heart beneath the water slick fur. The pressure of his hand was so tight; it was almost as if he debated tearing the frightened organ from its case. "Why do you know me?"
---
Tariq, satisfied now that Sive had remembered herself, turned back to the task of cleansing himself of the blood that lingered over him like a death-shroud. He submerged himself in the depths of the dark waters. The slave’s choked tears became muffled underwater as he scoured the dried blood from his muzzle, the hollows of his eyes. Dark tendrils of it snaked upward before dispersing. He resurfaced just as the omen twisted the feline’s arm, his hair clinging to his face like the countenance of a drowned man. He stood tersely, water raining down in a loud splatter, and approached the pair in silence. The bat took a seat on the step next to his beleaguered omen. A clawed wing extended to its impressive full length and curled around them, draping them in membrane and shadow without quite grazing either one.
A terrible tension seemed to be collecting in the slant of his shoulders, gathering like a dark storm cloud in the breath that hissed softly from parted jaws. But the vampire offered neither protection nor guidance and remained wordless, his cloying proximity impossible to ignore.
---
Sive watched water trickle over blood, meeting it, diluting it, and washing it away. She sympathized with that fleeting blood. Her nearness to the omen was stiffling. Breath tickled her ear, causing it to flick in retaliation. His eyes were on her, she knew it, she could feel it, but she could not bring herself to look into those eyes that no longer recognized her. It was too cruel, and she could only take so much pain. Fingers were gentle, brushing up blood, never minding it touching fingers, lingering in her own fur. But before she could reach for water again she was hissing in pain, that arm easilly snatched up and moved behind her. It hurt, it made her head go fuzzy, her body warm. Her chest heaved as she was trapped, wriggling ever so slightly as if she wanted to get away. But as she was touched again, that pressure made her pause.
Her heart was racing, and she finally looked behind him, at the area surrounding them. She should try to escape. But it was Fabien. It had been so long. Even if he did not know her, she knew him. Didn't she? His question made her faulter and she tried to move, to look back to Tariq, only to find he had gotten closer without her realizing it? She shook violently, getting no help, and having no desire to lie. "We once shared a cage, I loved you as my friend, and now my friend is gone, and I am alone again." Whispers were harsh, words breaking, threatning to fall to pieces. She curled in on herself a bit, sure that either of them would lash out and end her at any moment.
---
Fabien's eyes were unblinking, and his sharp ears quivered once again as he listened to her explanation. He watched with deep, trembling interest as her lips formed each word. And as the answer came, the omen desperately sought for these memories. He ripped through the doors of his mind, trying ever ruined corner for some trace of her presence. Gradually he released her arm, his cold, corpse-like hand slipping from her with a gentle sigh. His other hand departed the flutter of her heart, leaving her free to breathe without his cruel pressure. The boy's features had changed, smoothed out somehow and turned more youthful, more how she remembered him. And so it seemed something had been dislodged, and then the omen welcomed her, with both arms extended, into his embrace. Back against his heart, the chest that was still alive with some strange electric current.
His arms sought to curl around her with his old, firm gentleness. The way they always had before in all that time they had been together. It was a pity then, that this brief moment of gentleness was a trick. That he was so good, so very good, at feigning kindness when there was only cruelty. Whether she accepted his embrace or not, it would soon become apparent he boy meant to hurt her. "She is a poor liar, maître," he murmered, glancing toward the bat. Then the cursed creature arched forward, and immediately sought to force his dearly beloved friend beneath the surface of the water. Down he would force her, into those terrifying depths, where she would not be able to regain her breath unless he chose to let her go. "Such fine sadness, but a poor liar."
---
Tariq’s breath left his chest in a hot hiss at her response to the omen’s fumbling questions. The tip of his ragged wing trembled as though in anticipation to knock them both off their feet and into the dark water, put an abrupt end to their confused reunion. However, the omen’s rejoinder coaxed a flame to burn beneath his black eyes, setting them aglow. The bat’s wing fell to rest on the ground behind them in a dragon’s sprawl of claw and thick membrane. “Truly,” he rasped in his crow’s-tongue, his muscles losing their tense edge. He lounged back easily into the stone step. His long hair still dripped specks of diluted blood. The feline, it seemed, could expect little aid from his still figure.
---
Sive had poured her heart and soul into those words, expecting nothing in return. She should have expected cruelty, but instead was pulled in close, an embrace she missed. An embrace that never made her feel any better in the long run. Her heart continued to pound, a part of her feeling lighter. Better. Could he have remembered her? Or was he taking pity on her? And then dread as he spoke. No! The words were on her lips but never made it through. She was under the water, body convulsing violently, trying to resurface. Not the water! Panic and dread and fears from long ago came bubbling up with the air bubbles that surfaced from her under water screams. And without thinking she sucked in a breath, and water was sucked into lungs.
---
Fabien's neck arched as he felt her struggle, and a smile once again curled into the corners of his wretched mouth. Already his movements seemed somewhat more fluid, less laboured and rigid with his own pain and suffering. Instead his woes were allowed to flit aside, as he savoured Sive's unhappiness until his toes were curling with pleasure. However, the omen did not mean to kill her, he had no appetite for such things. And when he felt her struggling soften, he released her slowly and withdrew his hand so that she could surface freely. His foxen tail lifted and whipped against the wet stones, crackling in a mixture of satisfied delight... and something else, something he had yet to place. It was there though, under the surface of skin, sure to work its way free like a gangrenous splinter.
The boy moved, turned his body aside and towards the vampire as though he were desirous of something. Tentatively he reached out to trace his fingers along the bat's forearm, a nervous gesture, as though he were uncertain of his own actions. "Did she clean me well, Monsieur? Are you satisfied now?" So painfully changed was the omen now, beyond repair it seemed. Only once did his glowing eyes turn back toward Sive, still studying her with a dull glimmer of confusion and uncertainty.
---
Tariq had observed the scene with mild disinterest, sightless eyes unfocused and lazy. It wasn’t until the omen released the feline from her waterlogged torment that he leaned in and took hold of her wrist. Firmly, but without unnecessary malice, he pulled her from the water and against him as though she were an exhausted child needing succor. He cradled her wet, shivering form against him with one arm. The other responded to the omen’s gentle touch, extending his forearm to bring him close by the back of his head. His question hardly needed an answer; the bat radiated languid satisfaction in every soft movement, in every still muscle and tranquil curve of spine. But he pressed his warmed lips to the boy’s forehead before releasing him. “Yes,” he breathed, the liquid black crescent of his eyes partially concealed beneath the hoarfrost of his eyelashes. “I am satisfied.”
---
Sive was drowning. One of her most severe fears, drowning. There was no more air, and she struggled to get to it. Never before, she thought, had she struggled so violently for anything. Especially her own life. And as conciousness threatened to leave her, as her body lost the strength and will to struggle, she was pulled free. Water hurled from her mouth, burning as she finally had air. Lungs expelled water, and she coughed until she was sure she'd have no voice at all, it hurt so badly. Greedy gulps of air soon followed, and in a haze she was pulled away from the omen, her shivering form in the clutches of the one she feared the most. Ah, but such comfort was not disuaded, and she curled in close, tears mingling with the water that clung to every inch of her. There were words she did not grasp onto, only the terror she'd felt moments before, hanging her in limbo.
---
Fabien's eyes shivered over Sive, her small sodden form curled against the bat's chest. It was not with remorse that he looked upon her, but something strange still clouded his eyes. It was as though he were watching her through a mist, catching glimpses here and there with no shape or substance. At the press of the vampire's lips against his brow, the omen's eyes closed. For a moment it seemed he too might then fall in and against the bat's chest, his shoulders trembling with relief and something that might have been joy. The youth's head sank, and the pointed fingers still outstretched above the place where they had slipped over the bat's dark fur. Just when it seemed he might recline closer, he pulled back with a shuddering intake of breath, and pushed his fingers through his wet, tangled hair. This, whatever it was, whatever had happened, was too much. It threatened to gnaw its way through him unpleasantly. "Can I... can I leave now, Monsieur? Can I go?"
Fabien rasped breathily, tearing his gaze away from them both. The omen was only too aware of what had led him to this bathhouse. But perhaps it would be forgotten, for tonight at least.
---
Tariq held the girl close, cordially lending her the heat of his body. Clawed fingers soothed through her drenched hair as though he were stroking a well-loved family pet. His touches were ceaselessly tender, the brutality she had just suffered only seeming to have increased his fondness. The omen’s eager question distracted him only briefly. “Yes, go.” It was a soft assent, not fettered by any restrictions or boundaries. It wasn’t until after the boy had heeded his dismissal that the vampire would lean in close to a feline ear, his breath warm as it fluttered gentle against skin. “Your bath as promised, mockingbird.” Cruel humour laced viciously through the whispered words, peaking at her old pseudonym. His long memory apparently had fewer holes than his wayward fox’s. “You will rest with me for now. When morning breaks, I will release you back to your cage. We have much to discuss.”
---
Sive's half lidded gaze was mostly on Fabien, watching him watch her, his movements towards Tariq. All of it. But that gaze was blank. Broken. As if she were lost somewhere in her own thoughts and bad dreams. Ears flicked forward and breath came in quick, as if she were surfacing from the water all over again. He asked to leave, and was given leave to do so. Her body curled against the vampire's a bit more, soaking up what comfort he gave her. Even if it was cruel comfort. Tender touches mocked her enough that she could sink into the tease, making her wonder at his intentions until his words chilled her. Even though it was a mild relief to hear an old nickname, she sobbed quietly against Tariq, all of the pain in the world seeming to sink into her. And she couldn't take it.
Still, she nodded through tears, mouthing a, "Yes, Sir," but the words were barely a whisper. It was hard to speak. Whatever it was they were to talk about, she was not going anywhere, not until he let her.