The admiration writ upon the grey mares face sent a thrill through Illynx as she stood under the product born from her mind and Ulrik’s craft, her ego swelling under the gentle strokes of the breathless woman’s voice, the eager stare that does not tear away from the bronze giant even when she replies. She believes this woman, for the most part – she doesn’t ever fully believe anyone will keep to their word, really. It was just a fact of life that everyone broke promises and ruptured hearts, even when the initial fracture wasn’t intentional, and this belief had, in part, shaped who she was now.

A glimmering golden mask emblazoned with jewels of many colors, covering a fetid and rotting soul. She kept the stench of her impurity covered with the delicate lilt of her laughter and false, aptly painted smiles; she had learned her role well.

Her dark lips part to speak once more as a large, masculine figure arrives to their meeting.

The approach of Kreiger drew her head erect and a smile to her lips as his words met a mangled ear directed his way, though she still watches the other woman with interest as to her reactions. Illynx doesn’t dislike men, for they surely have their many uses, but she much prefers feminine company, for two reasons. Firstly, women were more to her taste. They tended to be less straight forward, and more prone to twisted games relying on words and small deeds – and for the same reason, she needed them near her to ensure she was not included on their list of those to rip into tiny pieces with a serrated tongue.

She takes note of the chill wind as Tangere does, her head quickly pivoting to the source of the unusually bitter cold arriving from the entryway. She sees a flash of black, a slender and small frame, and then it is gone.

She manages to blink before it is among them, emotionless white gaze sweeping across her flesh in such a way that she is reminded of a cougar waiting upon a branch, it’s prey angled beneath it. A sickening fear has been born in her belly as she manages to pry her golden eyes from that of the monster, the chains that bound her in place broken by a word that struck her directly in the heart.

Empress, echoes the same soft voice within her mind.

Jorogumo… she thinks numbly, feeling her knees tremble though she forces them still. Proudly, her crown rises as if in protest of the blame that was being shoved upon her, as if remaining regal and a queen will make her any less guilty than the girl paints her. "J…Jorogumo," shakily manages the Gilded Blade, her eyes remorseful and filled with fear at the same time, her words travelling a shorter and shorter distance as the being who had once been only a child drew nearer to her, "I…I did not know…"

Her words trail into a scream of protest as the child’s haunting gaze is severed from her and turned to the crimson laced stag, almost simultaneously casting her into that inky, miserable cloud that seemingly consumed the air in which she appeared. Illynx’s limbs are moving, though she doesn’t realize it yet, back and away from the horrifying sight that fills her eyes, lips mutely tasting the wind where once she had been trying to apologize.

What the fuck…

She is torn from her thoughts by the cry of her newest underling, instantly enraged by the pleading question though she knows it is hers to answer.

She doesn’t know what the hell Jorogumo has become, much less what to do about her.

Snapping her gaze to Tangere briefly before returning it to the cryptically taunting filly, her words are sharp and keen as glass meeting stone. "Run," nearly snarls the bitch in answer, squaring her own limbs off and facing the devil who had once been a babe she had come to feel concern over, fear tracing rippling trembles across her skin though her face is seemingly carved from steel. There is no trace of metallic flash in her golden eyes; they are dark, and they are full of a primal disgust for the wretched magic that has stolen the little orphan away from her. The light that burns in them now can only be described as the remaining embers of a fire that destroyed the world.

"I have been here, child," wolfishly croons the wench as she stares down the spider child, "you might have found me if you’d tried. And I am here now." Selling her fear to the open, an eye drifts to the bleeding stallion, torn open so suddenly by the horrendous… monster that resided within Jorogumo’s body.

She finds shame in the fleeting glance away. When her golden eyes return, they have found their flame again. It flickers and dances, taunts and bribes. She wants to know if the girl still lingers within the layers of inky darkness that have swallowed her soul and stolen her body - and to know, she must test the loyalty she believes resides within the heart of the true Jorogumo from their prior conversations, the tentative bond that she held felt between the two of them as she cleverly sculpted a young mind into her own private weapon.

Now, that weapon had threatened to take the lives of all on the mountain. For Illynx, this simply wouldn't do, and she let the weight of her responsibility hold her firmly in her place.

"Come and get me, demon smut."

If we’re all going to die, little Jorogumo, let us both be first.