“The Phantom Seeker leads the sleuths. She's done well for herself.” Your voice betrays nothing. Not your lust, not your desires, not your tottering after her like a child. As far as you know she is fine, healthy, leading a wonderful fucking life as the princess to the Lesbians, loved by all. Even you, cold hearted and too involved with your Locoweed to have time for love lust after her. Her sugar lips, her saccharine words that drape over you, draw you to her. She is something special and you know now why pretty boy tottered after her like a child- you do the same thing. And now you would be jealous, be angry that he inquired after her, but your hatred of Eris is far greater than your lust for the Phantom Seeker. If you must pick and choose in this situation, then you pick revenge.

“She will not be harmed,” you add afterwords, looking over him and eyes widening as you finally come to some realization that he will need healing. Clearly he is damaged beyond his body's capability to heal on its own. But you feel no pity for his injuries- hurt makes the body grow. Your creed? What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Still... At least he has agreed to help you. For once you feel like you're getting somewhere. You're not fumbling around in the dark on your own, hoping and waiting for a chance to prove that you're more useful than they seem to think you are.

“We take them down from the inside out,” you say finally, lowering your voice and making sure nobody is around to hear you. You see none, you hear none. You are safe. “I won't run. I won't give them the pleasure.” That's about as far as your plan has gotten so far. Destroy what they love from within. And so you watch him, wondering what he thinks of it, wondering if he will recognize the invitation when you throw it at him. From within. You never even consider that he doesn't want to rejoin the Asylum. Not that he has to, there are plenty in the Falls that do not seem loyal to the Lesbians' cause.

“The healer lives,” you add onto the end. You do not tell him she will fix him, you do not demand that he fix himself. You won't make him be victim to such pity. You know a warriors heart. And while you do not know Pretty Boy, you think his heart rings the same. On the end, you add quietly, “Think of us...” Still, even in your mind, you're not sure if by us you mean you and him or you and yourself. For now, it must be both. This has gotten bigger than something you can handle on your own. You may be rash, but you're not entirely stupid.