The Wicked Hand Tends the Blossom (Vekraihr x DigitalSiren)

[Vekraihr]

It was nighttime in the station city of Proxima Luminaris and the metropolis never seemed to have a quiet moment. People and robots moved through the streets as cars flew through the corridors between the buildings that rose towards the heavens, engines humming and howling into the night as the magnetic drives and ducted fans propelled them through the air. The self-contained atmosphere had weather all its own and, for some god-forsaken reason, it seemed to favor rain most evenings. This one was no exception as the droplets fell through the night sky to be illuminated by neon signs, LED indicators, and bright streetlamps. One could look up and see the low-hanging clouds, pierced by the brightly lit windows of the buildings which rose into those dark pillows. Small puddles rippled with the ever-falling droplets that made their way to the streets, interrupted by the splash of a foot— or a wheel or tread— as the various nocturnal denizens went about their business. A slight haze hung over the streets, steam rising from metal grates and from leaks in pipes adding to the lazy mist that further cooled the air.

Proxima Luminaris seemed like a wonderful idea at the time. Create a city on a platform at the L1​ Lagrange point between the Earth and the Moon, govern it, and populate it with humans, cyborgs, androids, and many other races in order to help create a varied, balanced community. However, fiction reads much better than reality and, in the short-sidedness of the Commonwealth of Terra, they neglected to consider that a self-governed city-state might run afoul of some criminal activity. Quite quickly, several factions rose to power, but none rose to the meteoric heights of the Halcyon Cabal. Within a few decades, they’d garnered a considerable following within the city and wound up becoming untouchable by the local policing force. Rather than dispatching fresh faces to deal with the criminal syndicate, the Commonwealth decided to ignore the problem and pretend that it simply didn’t exist.

And so, drawn by the allure of a city in space, many people found themselves taken in by the city before realizing the darker nature of what occurred behind the scenes. However, life was still rather pleasant despite the rather unsavory activities of the Halcyon Cabal, and most grew to adjust to the somewhat grim circumstance or embraced it all together. One such individual, Ares Ingram, was just 17 when he moved to the city in order to escape the banality of his parents’ expectations. Born in the year 3701, Ares was the result of genetic manipulation through the use of various methods to create an ideal human. Everything had been accounted for: height, weight, intelligence, muscle definition, constitution; all of it had been considered. However, somewhere within the formulation, or perhaps as a consequence of it, Ares had been born without empathy or remorse for most. Labeled as a sociopath at a young age, his parents were stricken by the fact that their son had developed in a cruel direction— and yet, they did nothing but try and foster a moral barometer within him so that he would, at the very least, be capable of discerning right from wrong.

To a degree, it had succeeded and he didn’t act indiscriminately. However, his cruelty was focused on those he considered ‘deserving’, and the swiftness of his ire was only outdone by his lust for blood. And so, he went on to Proxima Luminaris, hoping to find something life to do that he found more enjoyable than his studies and what his parents asked of him. Rather immediately, he’d caught himself in the middle of a conflict between the Halcyon Cabal and a lesser syndicate known as the Brotherhood of Briareus. Jumping into the fray, Ares strangled one of the lieutenants of the Brotherhood to death with a gleeful look in his eyes. Rather quickly thereafter, the situation was handled and the Halcyon Cabal, with a mixture of concern and delight, brought this newcomer to meet with their leader, a man who simply went by the name Drakko. For 15 years, he served as a member of the Cabal and rose through the ranks until he was Drakko’s right hand. He grew notorious for handling things no one else would touch— and doing so with more than just a slight, sadistic enjoyment. It didn’t go entirely smoothly for him and he found himself with a cybernetic replacement for his left arm when he was 24. This seemed to only make him more effective as the cybernetic replacement could be outfitted with weapons and was capable of delivering much more strength than his already powerful stature could provide. Things were going well for him and he was making a (not so) honest living on this platform city he called home. He even founded a successful nightclub after saving enough money from his stipend as the Cabal’s right hand and purchasing a dying business to demolish and renovate at his discretion. Sure, it’d been dying because he’d crippled the owner, but that wasn’t much of his concern.

However, the dynamic began to shift whenever their gang began to take in slaves and Ares found himself struggling with the idea.

Then, one slave came in who made it clear to him how he felt and earned herself his protection whenever he found himself around her. Persephone had to have been the sweetest girl he’d ever met and he made it clear that no harm was to come to her. When he was around, he would care for her and ensure she was fed and warm at night. Anytime the others would raise a hand or voice to her, he wouldn’t hesitate to send them to their asses and, in one instance, through the window of a car. He wouldn’t kill one of the Cabal, however, as they were a family and there was a deranged code of honor in it. However, he couldn’t be around all the time, and it was those moments the gang took advantage of. And the horrific things they did to her...He was glad he wasn’t around for the worst parts of it else might have tried to rip the whole Cabal apart with his own hands.

However, with things as they were, he felt too conflicted to stay and, after having a heated argument with Drakko, stormed from their complex in the port district of the city before leaving for his nightclub in downtown Proxima. Drakko, seemingly less concerned with his departure than he was for the guarantee that his men would come back to him whole, instructed those of the Halcyon Cabal that Ares was not to be followed, hassled, or crossed. For all intents and purposes, Drakko declared him untouchable, on the constituency that he was confident he had plenty enough evidence against him to leverage him into an uncomfortable enough position to bend the knee once again. Ares, upon his arrival to his nightclub, instructed the bouncers to allow no one from the Halcyon Cabal within and to personally escort Persephone within the premises should they see her, Along with these instructions, he gave them a short description of her appearance, though he could have listed few details and she would have easily stood out to them.

Downtown Proxima was a little livelier than other parts of the city at this time of day and there was a line down the street outside of a building stylized on the outside to appear like a fusion of ancient Grecian architecture with a modern flair. A sign of stylized, violet flames reads ‘Erisian Twilight’ and there was the low din of a gathered crowd within as a large security guard stood attentively at the open doors leading within. In part, the club served as an outlet for whatever Ares desired and so the interior was inclined to change on a whim when he decided he wanted a specific aesthetic or vibe for that evening. Tonight, within the club, there was a large dancefloor that was currently set up like a lounge with a bunch of seating booths scattered around where the acts performed on the main stage across from the entrance against the far wall. One of the adjacent walls held a long bar which was attended to by several bartenders who were dressed in tuxedos and were pouring drinks for guests as, on stage, an act performed a dark, jazzy piece. The act, silhouetted against the crowd by a wall of blue flames that licked and crept upwards behind them, played a sultry, slow piece with a tall, familiar figure playing the saxophone.

 

[Bunny]

Designer babies had been controversial once upon a time. Picking the sex of your child had sent ripples through the world raising questions if it was ethical. The more time that had passed, the more commonplace it had become, ethics be damned and with that mindset, other options were offered. Wealthy families could pick not only the sex, but their features of their child; hair color, eye color, skin. Jumping off from there, the options to design the perfect human. Intelligence, body type and as the technology evolved and other modifications became available the human race diverged. You could have ears and a tail added, if you were unfortunate to be born a run of the mill human, but now babies could be made with such alterations. Persephone was one such baby. Her mother was a fan of the aesthetic, but due to her job it hadn't been prudent to make such alterations to herself.. but her child? fair game.

People have babies for all sorts of reasons. The desire to be a parent, to try and save a marriage, to have a living doll, money. Lidia Astaseul was an actress and while not obscenely rich, she was more than well off and oft in the public spotlight. Sordid love affairs, tax evasion among the highlights of the details of the reel of her life. While she'd been younger, she had no room for children, as she grew older she neither wanted to carry a child or go through the rigmarole of finding a partner, so she turned to a fertility lab.

Persephone was made in a test tube, each detail of her features debated over and cultivated to Lidia's exact tastes. Her skin would be porcelain, though for a while, Lidia had considered a lovely shade of caramel instead. Her eyes would be two separate colors, heterochromia was cute in her eyes, so Persephone had one eye of gold and one a vivid pink, though the words did not do them justice. Persephone would have white hair, though there would be pink underneath. A pair of fluffy ears and a gorgeous, fluffy tail, were requested along with fangs. The feline features appealing to Lidia greatly. Lidia had wanted a small child, something cute, adorable, so Persephone would only be 4'11 even as an adult. Every little detail was customized, down to her scent; essence of Sampson Root sweetened with the heightened sexuality of beeswax, virile juniper, oakmoss, ambrette seed over honey and East African musk. There had been some question as to why she'd pick that scent among the staff, when everything else about her child to be sweet as sin and the scent she had picked was sultry.

She was born to Lidia on the first day of spring, another thing hand picked out for the babe. Her early years were a blur of sorts, pageants, contests... all ways for her mother to relive her youth second hand. Persephone's like was like a single choreographed dance, each and every step planned out. As she grew, the small child battled with depression among other things while striving to please the woman who had made her made. There had been an argument once when Persephone was almost eight, in which her mother told her that she had her made, she could unmake her too. It was about then that Persephone realized that she was no different than an accessory for her. Such a realization in one's formative years was like a physical blow. Lidia was no longer her mother in her eyes, she was her owner and it was around this age when her warped sense of the world came to be.

Lidia died when Persephone was fifteen and she became a number within the system. Lidia had left her nothing, further solidifying the view of herself. Perhaps the most dangerous thing that Lidia had done was make the young woman unready for the harsh reality of the world. Persephone was naïve, her life so sheltered... she was an easy target for the blossoming slave trade on Proxima Luminaris, not that she was from there. No, Persephone had been born on earth and was snatched one day in the darkness of the night on her way home from work. She wasn't alone on the ship she was shoved into, near fifty girls huddled together. Some like her, were scared.. Some tried to care for them, act as mothers, best they could and others were cold and separate from the others. An odd mix of girls from all walks of life, though the majority of them were picked because they wouldn't be missed. Who would miss a former starlet's test tube concocted daughter? Not many even knew she existed.

Once on Proxima Luminaris Persephone along with the other kidnaped girls were sold in a black market slave auctions. On one hand, the order, the structure of being a slave made sense to her. It wasn't all that different than being a living doll for Lidia. She'd be told what was expected of her and there was no room for whimsy or choice in her life. On the other hand, she struggled with the idea of another person ruling her life. It had been less than a month after leaving the orphanage before she'd been kidnaped and any chance at knowing what life could offer.

A life always ruled by another, her "mother" more or less a monster herself, the Halcyon Cabal was more or less the same in her eyes. If she did as she was told, she'd be given meals, a room to share with a few others... The major change was Lidia had never beaten her, but the end result was the same. If she was bad enough, fought back, she'd be dead. Some girl were taken for pleasure slaves, some for maids and others were hand picked to work at the numerous establishments. The latter group had been picked as they'd been paraded in front of the upper echelon of the gang. Each of the top members picked one girl and they were given private rooms, a job within one of the many clubs.

Ares had been the one to take a shine to Persephone and took to coming to visit her in the bar she worked. It had not been easy to get to know her, for she was almost painfully timid. It came from a life of being under someone's thumb... Even so, her actions, more than her words spoke for her. The first incident had been almost a week after she'd joined the gang in the wee hours of the morning a commotion woke her from slumber. Slipping from her room she saw a few men huddled around a singular man. Peering around them she found the man bore a vicious wound, his guts spilling from his body. His face was grey and he muttered scared, fearful of his encroaching death. Though these men were no friend to her, her heart ached for the man. He was younger than she, it seemed, by at least a few years. Carefully Persephone moved to the man. Curling on the floor she gently lifted his head into her lap. Softly ,she began to sing, the song was something she'd learned as a child to please her mother. She'd picked it to put him at ease, speaking of a fairy tale land he'd likely never heard of, but it was a kindness she'd could offer, her fingers curling though his hair. His skin grayed and his breathing became uneven and before her song had even finished he'd passed. Looking up, she caught the eyes of Ares on her. His face had been unreadable at the time and she had no idea that it had been him who had saved her from the pleasure houses.

Life from then had fallen into a pattern of sorts, though, always at the edge was Ares.

Persephone was forbidden fruit. No one dared try and bed her for fear of Ares and they had learned quickly that daring to hit her was not permitted, neither was yelling at her. She often found that Ares would wait around until after her shift and walk her back to the safety of the compound. He was around enough and was nothing but a gentleman that she had trouble believing his reputation. It wasn't she had never seen violence from Ares, but it hadn't seemed more than any other. In the time they spent together though Persephone couldn't have said they knew each other well, but she found herself looking forward to the walks home and small conversations. They made her.. happy.

The other members kept their distance, afraid of what Ares might do if they touched her, but that fear only would last so long.. Ares was sent to deal with a problem that took him away for almost two weeks.. They knew to chase her would not end well for them.. Yet, she was a peach ripe for plucking and so they took a bite. Those two weeks she'd been at their mercy were the worst of Persephone's life. Raped repeatedly she was offered up to others who had wanted nothing more than to taste the forbidden, it added spice to the mix, they told her. Beaten when she dared to fight back and then raped some more. It had only been fourteen days but it had felt like an eternity in hell.

She'd been in the hospital when Ares left the gang and without him to protect her any more it became open season on her. A week, she'd made it a week before something inside the small female snapped. One of her most frequent visitors cornered her in the back room of the bar. The room was lit up dimly by the pink glow of her outfit. She'd been ordered to wear it, Devon liked the look of her small body wrapped in latex.. Theron had just wanted a quicky, but the end of Persephone's tether had been reached. The closest thing to her had been a corkscrew and it found its way into his jugular.

Stumbling from the backroom, it wasn't apparent right away that she was covered in blood. She'd just kept stabbing him, long after he'd been dead. Though as she walked numbly from the bar one of the bouncers had caught sight of her face in the streetlights. Blood flecked her face, drying from a vibrant red to a rusty brown. Shouts had followed her as she had begun to run.

She didn't know why she ran to his club, since his departure a bitterness had settled in place. He'd left her there, the closest thing she'd had to a friend. The line of people ignored, shouting at her as she moved past them. Looking up at a burly man, who with one look, blood or no, knew who she was. She was immediately allowed entrance, though.. behind her.. there was a growing commotion and it wasn't the crowd. She'd made it into the club when the first hand was laid on her.

 

[Vekraihr]

Ares felt something he’d never felt before when he’d learned of the fate that had befallen Persephone while he had been sent away: regret. All his life, he’d never felt the bitterness of doubt or self-consciousness but the knowledge that he’d failed to protect her— failed to consider that the fear of reprisal wouldn’t last while he was away— left him in a way he couldn’t explain. Of course, he had demanded to take Persephone with him when he left, even tried to sneak her out, but they had tightened the guard on her. Even with as adept and lethal as he was, there was no way he could take on the entire Cabal by himself. He was too smart and self-preserving to even try. And so, he left without her, bile bittering the back of his throat as he swallowed the acid and anger welling up within him. He’d hoped he’d see her again and decided to bide his time and build his strength to usurp the Halcyon Cabal and take her back for himself. To him, she was coveted and precious above all other things.

The music and soundproofing of the club ensured Ares couldn’t hear the commotion ensuing outside as Persephone pushed her way through the crowd and made her way to the bouncer. His cold disposition didn’t change, but he nodded her through and stiff-armed one who tried to run past with Persephone, decrying the unfairness of her being allowed through above those who had been waiting. Behind her, a small group from the Cabal had dispatched themselves in order to bring about her capture and return. One such individual, Minos, was a long-time member and had himself savaged and raped Persephone on more than one occasion. His hair was jet black and buzzed nearly to the scalp, a scar running from the corner of his left lip and up to his green eye. He was lithe but fit, standing near 6’ tall and he was dressed in black leathers with silver spikes adorning the shoulders, wrist, and shins. Maynard, one of the newer members who had also joined in while Ares was gone, had on a pair of glasses that reflected the purple flames of the signage and stood a little shorter than Minos but was more muscular. Trent was the third and the newest among the three, his auburn hair kept in a ponytail and his androgynous face led him to be frequently harassed by the other members for looking too lady-like.

Markus, the bouncer, had been instructed to allow any members of the Cabal through as well. And so, as the three pushed through the crowd towards Markus, he simply stepped aside much to the surprise of the group who had been anticipating a fight. As they rushed inside behind her, Minos threw his hand out and grabbed a handful of Persephone’s hair, yanking her backward as he hissed, “I’ve got you now, you little bitch!” On stage, the large figure playing the saxophone suddenly stopped playing and the instrument clattered to the ground as Ares saw Persephone. His blood began to boil as he saw Minos and his vision began to redden as he saw Persephone get ripped back by her white and pink locks. Jumping down from the stage, his feet landed with a solid 'thud' as the club got eerily quiet as he rapidly began to walk towards the group. He was dressed in a fine suit, charcoal black with slate grey pinstriping, a white button-up, and a red tie. “Persephone, welcome to my humble establishment. It’s good to see my kitten has found her way home. You guys really should know how to dress for the occasion,” Ares spoke, his voice was deep, powerful, and smooth as silk with an expression that was strangely serene though the fury was apparent in his eyes. Where his eyes were typically amber-colored, as he approached, the dim lights revealed a violent crimson hue had taken over.

Minos quickly dropped his hand from Persephone and drew a wicked-looking blade from his leathers as Ares approached. “Oh, have we now? And just what should we have worn?” Minos spat back defiantly as he brandished the blade skillfully. “Why, this is a formal event. You need a tie,” Ares responded bluntly as he stepped between Persephone and Minos. His presence was imposing as he stood nearly overtop of Minos, who took a step back to try and give himself a defensive advantage before he lunged forward with the knife. “She belongs to the Cabal!” he spat as he feinted, stepping in a different direction from his lunge before jabbing his knife towards a vital spot between Ares’ ribs. Ares chuckled as his hand shot forth and grabbed hold of the arm with the blade and drove the knife into his own stomach. As his vital fluid began to stain his shirt and blazer, Ares started laughing wickedly as his grip strengthened on Minos’ arm, who began to try and wrestle free while grunting with frustration, throwing punches to no avail into Ares' chest and face. “I said, you need a tie…” his voice was still calm, but the anger was latent on his tone as he reached up with his free hand, his cybernetic left arm and he dug his fingers into Minos’ throat. For a brief moment, he screamed in pain before he began gurgling and choking on his own blood as the metallic amalgam pierced into his throat and Ares ripped his tongue from the back of his throat and out through the new opening he’d made in his neck. As the blood from Minos gushed forth, spilling over his face, he heaved a sigh of relief as he licked the crimson from his lips and turned his eyes toward Maynard.

Those two newer members had begun to panic, stammering as they clamored for an exit they wouldn’t be allowed to take as Markus stood there with his arms crossed, glaring into the room. “Tsk tsk...Such cowardly behavior,” Ares chided as he dropped Minos’ arm and the man crumpled to the ground, choking on his own blood and trembling as the cold grip of death began to come over him. Maynard, feeling cornered, lunged towards Ares who laughed a little harder as both of his hands shot up and grabbed ahold of his head. Lifting the man clear off the ground, Ares pushed him towards the wall and slammed him into it while digging his thumbs through the glasses, breaking shards of them into his eyes before his thumbs began to dig into those orbs. His agonized screams broke through the silence as blood poured from his eyes and Ares shuddered as he grinned further. “Oh, how I love it when you scream for me...Tell me how much it hurts…” he growled as he began to crush his skull, the sickening crackle of bones sounding as he steadily increased the pressure. Screams turned to sobbing and gibbering before a sudden silence was punctuated by a loud 'crack' followed by the crumple of the lifeless body to the floor.

It was then that he turned to Trent, who had pissed himself witnessing the brutality Ares displayed. He’d heard the man was a sadistic freak, but this was far beyond anything he could have anticipated. Ares approached the young man, who was hyperventilating and looking around in a panic as the bloodied figure slowly loomed over him. “You can leave. Tell the Cabal that Persephone is mine. Draco lost two today. Tell him if he doesn’t want that number to exponentially increase, he’ll leave well enough alone,” Ares growled to Trent, who gulped and nodded rapidly as his breathing intensified. Ares looked to Markus, giving a nod and the bouncer stepped out of the threshold. Without giving a second glance, Trent scrambled for the door in a panicked fervor as Ares turned towards the bloodied Persephone. His eyes slowly shifted back to their amber hue as he walked towards her and extended a hand. “You’ve met with a terrible fate if I’m the only one to show you kindness in this world. Take my hand. I’m sure you'd like to get cleaned up. Come with me,” his voice was calmer when he spoke to her, nearly sweet but not quite that warm. Behind his gaze, there was a singular point of burning regret that he couldn’t shake as he looked at her, his lip split and his visage bloodied.

Those patrons of his club, knowing the nature of Ares and those he had previously associated with, seemed not too appalled at what had happened and, already, some of the servers had begun the process of cleaning the corpses from the floor. “I’m going to my penthouse. If anyone needs me, don’t,” he spoke towards Millia, the proprietress of his establishment when he was absent. Her golden hair flowed over her shoulders and her eyes were vibrant and iridescent behind a visage of cold beauty. “Of course, sir. Whatever it is you desire,” she responded, her voice bright but sultry as she made a few hand signals towards the act on stage who then proceeded to play a new tune. Another member stepped forth from the shadows, grabbing the saxophone that had been left behind as Ares brought Persephone, willing or not, towards a door behind the bar that led upstairs to a lavish penthouse. At the foyer, they were greeted by black marble flooring with veins of silver, pillars hewn from the same material holding up the ceiling. In the center, a bubbling fountain of white and gray marble burbled, edges cornered by cherub-like seraphic statues crying water into the center of the pool. Verdant trees grew at the edges of the room, framing doorways that led to other chambers to which Ares began to guide Persephone toward the right.

Down the lavish hallway and through another doorway, there spread before them a large bathroom. As they tripped the motion sensors, the lights flicked on to reveal the interior with a raised basin of a large bathtub in the center of the room, hewn from black granite and lined with smooth tiles. A silver dragon’s head served as the faucet and the knobs to each side were silver claws clutching a ruby and a sapphire. In one of the corners was a shower stall, lined with glass and adorned with a large waterfall showerhead coming down from the ceiling in the center of the stall. There was also a vanity washing basin against the wall nearest the door with cabinets of dark wood, adorned with silver and the mirror was lined with bright LED bulbs. Silver shelves lined with plush towels and washcloths sat nearest the bathtub and shower and several jewel-like bottles of various soaps, shampoos, and other such toiletries sat on one row of shelves on each unit. “Bath or shower?” he asked her simply as he walked forward into the room, the knife from earlier still buried in his stomach as he went towards the vanity and grabbed hold of it, looking in the mirror as he slowly drew the blade from himself without flinching or grimacing.

 

[Bunny]

A hand caught her arm, a cry leaving her lips as pain rippled through her arm. On one hand Persephone hadn't been sure if her arm had been broken earlier.. she'd been too scared to test it. To try straightening the limb had been more than she was brave enough for. The club had fallen silent as Ares rose from his position on the stage and her cry had been heard by all within. After the music and the din of conversation just moments before, the silence rang in her ears, which lay flat to her head, her tail curled inwards. She was scared, in pain and the visual indicators could not hide it. Then there was a hand in her hair and another cry of pain, the sweet sound of her voice reverberating with it, her eyes closing tight against the ripple that made her nauseous.

“Persephone, welcome to my humble establishment. It’s good to see my kitten has found her way home. You guys really should know how to dress for the occasion,”

Minos pushed her aside and Persephone stumbled a step, curling in on herself. Goddess, she hurt all over. Hugging herself, Persephone looked up at Ares, Minos forgotten. She had never once seen his eyes crimson, normally his golden eyes had matched the hue close to her one eye. But now, though deeper and redder in shade, they were more a match for her magenta eye. The slow prowl of his body made her shiver and after a moment he placed himself between her and Minos.

The events that unfolded after were unlike anything she'd seen. Oh, it wasn't that she'd been spared, but the men did try their best to not scare this shit of the slave girls. She'd seen results of fights, helped bandage some up.. but never before had she a a front row seat. Persephone had known enough to move back from Ares, not wanting to hinder him in the fight, but she still had been his shadow. She'd seen the blade push through his skin and the little airy gasp had left her lips, eyes wide. Ares hadn't even flinched... She hadn't seen quite what had happened, that Ares had been responsible for impaling himself on the blade.

One thing Persephone did know was the sound of his laughter would haunt her dreams.

Ares was a monster. That is what she'd been told.. Warned to be careful with him. The others had been looking out for her, trying to keep her safe, yet when those who had warned her of the monster and then turned around and raped her.... Well.. one needed a monster to fight monsters. Ares was living up to his reputation. After Minos had crumpled to the floor, Persephone had closed her eyes. She thought it would be better. It was far from it...

She could hear everything in detail, like when Ares' fingers popped Maynard's eyes like ripe grapes and the sound of his screams mixed with the almost giddy sound in Are's voice. It had been a definite mistake to close her eyes. Yet, much like her arm, she wasn't brave enough to watch the horror unfold. With her arm broken she couldn't even cover her ears. A low, soft whine of distress left Persephone. The fighting hadn't lasted much longer.. He spared the newest of the three and she heard him retreat. It was only then that her eyes opened and she found Ares before her hand extended.

Whatever Persephone was, she wasn't okay. Her eyes were almost drowning in pupil, the colors of her eyes drowned out by the black. Though they both knew her dominant hand was her left, she placed her right in his. Her left arm hung limply at her side. Slowly she met his eyes. He'd left her, but he could also save her. Persephone had to wonder if aligning herself with a psychopath was the best option... Once she had thought them friends, but she'd never had romantic feelings for him... More so she was unsure what his feelings were. He'd never been forward, but he'd been a constant presence in her life since she'd been bought by the gang.

She'd been questioning her choice when she felt herself being tugged forward. She didn't fight him. She didn't want to and even if she had, she hurt. Truthfully, Persephone was ready for it all to be over. Her life had been a living hell since before he'd left and even though she was here, a part of her wondered if it would change.

The lavish surroundings were seen with dull eyes. Once, she might have marveled at the opulence.. but tonight dead eyes stared out at slowly changing scenery. The question was not answered and she dully watched him pull the blade from his stomach. Her blinks were slow, long and steady. Persephone's mind felt as broken as her body. Would Ares note more than her arm, her breathing was shallow? She didn't breathe deeply, it hurt. Fractured, maybe broken ribs.. In the lights, he'd also be able to see the patchwork of bruises along her skin.. cuts too. They had not been kind to the small female and the toll was wrought along her skin, etched in the lines of her face.

He might have thought she wouldn't speak, but after a long moment, she turned her face upwards, looking at him in the mirror that he stood before. For a long moment she was silent... She didn't answer his question.. Rather she asked one of her own. "Why did you leave me?" While she hadn't loved him, she had thought, despite the warnings, that he was a kind. He'd at least cared for her.. once.

 

[Vekraihr]

Ares couldn’t help but notice the fact that Persephone had placed her non-dominant hand in his and his frown deepened seeing the other hanging limp at her side. Once they had made it upstairs and he could better hear, he could hear the shallow, ragged breathing of someone who was far more injured than he might have thought. In his mind’s eye, all he could see was the retribution he wanted to inflict on those motherfuckers that did this to her. And, beyond that, his guilt for what had happened continued to wrack him with grief, and, slowly, his eyes shifted to a dull brown. He’d left her behind on the job in order to protect her but failed to consider that seeing him in his element might not have been the worst thing. Then, of course, he failed to retrieve her before leaving thanks to the increased presence of the Cabal around her. He’d tried, but what good was he going to be for her had he lost his life? Then, a question came to him in her soft voice and he nearly felt sick after the blade left his flesh, clattered to the sink and a thin stream of crimson gushed out.

’Why did you leave me?’

Slowly, his head turned to face her and the dull hues of his eyes betrayed the feelings of grief inside him as his face twisted with a mixture of sorrow and frustration. “I thought you would be safer if I didn’t take you on that job with me. Things are dangerous for one as sweet as you. I tried to take you with me. They stopped me. My hands were bound in the worst way and there was little use I could be for you as a corpse. But, what I allowed to happen to you is inexcusable,” his tone was solemn as a subtle quiver betrayed the depth of emotion he was feeling, in addition to the shake of his broad, strong shoulders. His voice softened as he looked at her, his eyes further darkening, “I’m a monster...Don’t blame me for it…” he sounded nearly broken as his left arm lashed out, smashing against the stone wall without causing as much as a scratch to either but the sound reverberated through the spacious chamber. ”Don’t blame me for it...” he softly repeated once again, though it wasn’t clear if he was talking to her or himself. He'd been avoiding processing what had happened to her. With her in front of him, there was no more denying the feelings that surged forward, dragged up by the chains of her misery.

It took a brief moment before he'd calmed down enough to seem approachable. He stepped towards her slowly, a storm of emotions within his orbs as he stared at her, reaching up carefully to cradle her jaw with his right hand to spare her the cold feeling of his metal arm. “I’ll call for my doctor to come and tend to you. She’ll make you feel brand new again,” he spoke calmer, wanting to give her reassurances that he would help and protect her. His thumb lightly brushed over her cheek before his hand fell away and he lifted a silver-colored communicator from his pocket and placed it near his mouth.

”Dr. Elizabeth,” he spoke and, after a brief pause, a feminine voice responded with a little amusement in her voice, ”Hello, Ares. Injured again already? You only showed up just last week nearly dead!” There was a brief pause from him as he glanced at Persephone. Had she been listening, she might see the implication in why he’d wound up in such a sorry state. It wasn’t as though the Cabal had let him leave peacefully, but he didn’t want Persephone to know all of that. He took a deep breath before he began to speak, rage and acid spilling through his tone,”Not me...Someone I care deeply for...They did...They hurt her...Persephone...She’s...Bring a full kit…Hurry.” All the amusement had left the voice from the other side and a quick, clinical response returned, ”Understood...I’ll be there in about 30 minutes. I just need to tell my husband that work is calling.” It seemed even the person who had attended to him at his most vulnerable wanted to do nothing to upset him.

Ares’ hand shook as he put the communicator away and he took a deep, shaky breath as he tried to calm his anger. His eyes kept flaring up in that crimson hue but would continually try to fade back down to that dull brown before his fury would claw its way back, igniting his eyes rhythmically. A lump would form in his throat, get stuck as he swallowed but then proceeded down heavily as he tried to stomach what he was feeling so that he might attend to Persephone in a gentler fashion. ”I need to undress you and get you cleaned up so the doctor can better examine you. She’s very skilled at handling augmented humans like you and I,” his tone was calming and was starting to become closer to that cool, soothing voice she’d grown to expect from him. Slowly, the golden hue began to faintly touch his eyes as he reached to begin peeling the latex outfit from her body. Naturally, he wasn’t expecting her to be too receptive and the subtle flinch of her body made him take a pause before he continued on.

“I promised you that I would never hurt you. I meant it, Persephone,” he stated simply and calmly as he carefully brought the waist of her top up over her chest, pulling it strongly so that the material wasn’t bunching up or putting pressure against her ribs. However, he wasn’t anticipating that the material would simply tear in half before he got it fully over her chest and he shook his head slowly before proceeding to carefully pull the sleeves from her arms. His touch was gentle and deliberate, one hand bracing the broken arm and the other taking the sleeve down as carefully as he could manage to try and minimize any painful additions he might cause. Afterward, he’d take one knee before her and he would tenderly but securely wrap his right arm around her waist as the fingers of his left hand began undoing any fastening that helped to hold her pants up before methodically removing them. If times were different, he might have taken a moment to appreciate the body before him, but, as she was covered in blood and bruises inflicted for the intention of bringing harm to her…

There was nothing to relish about that.

 

[Bunny]

The words fell on hollow ears and her eyes shifted away from him. Perhaps it was unkind, but something in the tiny female had shattered at the hands of her abusers. It wasn't so much that the light inside her was gone. No, it wasn't gone. It was fractured. The warmth, the sweetness... the light had shattered into jagged slivers. A part of her mind whispered that his choice made sense... She'd seen what he'd done to Minos after all, the delight he had taken in destroying the man. Her mind puzzled to work it out, would he have done the same without her as a catalyst? He'd taken joy, it seemed in destroying them. The problem was too complex for the moment she allowed it to slip from her mental fingers. Persephone had been staring at a far point on the wall since she'd looked away when Ares said that he was a monster.

“I’m a monster...Don’t blame me for it…”

Eyes shifted to him and she blinked. Was Ares a monster? Yes, whispered the small voice in her mind. Ares was a monster, but did she blame him for it? The only blame she had laid upon him was leaving her there... Persephone wouldn't even be able to question until later. Ares' voice sounded again and she wasn't sure if he repeated it to her or himself. Her eyes lingered on him. Persephone felt a bitterness in her chest at being left, but.. there was something more. She'd been with them for some time and that whole time, never once had anyone tried to touch her. She'd lived underneath the blanket of his protection for so long without ever knowing it was there. She should thank him, yet she couldn't find the words to do so. Or rather, she couldn't bring herself to say the words. All the protection in the world didn't stop what had happened. She knew he'd kept her from up till he couldn't. The internal battle to offer just a handful of words was underway as he stepped towards her.

The touch of the hand along her skin drew her back to the present and Persephone jumped, the sudden movement making her cry out as pain rippled through her body. It hadn't been that the touch had been unpleasant, but anyone touching her... any male... Yet she didn't pull out of his grasp and she felt the feather light touch of his thumb along her cheek. Lashes fell, the small, innocent touch, despite her reaction, savored. His hand fell away from her cheek seconds later and a small nod, barely perceivable was given. She needed a doctor, there was no doubt in her mind that she required one. "Okay.." The singular word a whisper of sound.

"You only showed up just last week nearly dead!”

Persephone hadn't considered listening to the conversation, but the words drew her attention. Last week? A frown pulled at her features.. Something to remember for later, for now her attention was on Ares' once more. Someone he cared for... Something about the words stirred something inside her. She'd known he'd cared for her on some level. It... was why she was here... Was she any better than those who hurt her? Using him to save herself? Lashes lowered, hiding the colors of her gaze from view. Persephone was preying on his feelings, his guilt, his affection. Was this all a mistake? Would it help that she hadn't planned to run to him? That when she was in trouble, he'd been her first thought. Would that avenge her manipulation?

”I need to undress you and get you cleaned up so the doctor can better examine you."

Those words were all she heard. Her head snapped up and she shook her head no. She didn't want anyone touching her. The doctor, even as a female would have a hard go of it.. but Ares? His hand brushed her and she flinched. "No!" Injured as she was, she wouldn't be able to fight back much, yet she struggled against him. Heart racing, Persephone began to hyperventilate. Ares' didn't stop, though his face was grim as at every point the tiny woman struggled, fought to flee from his touch, from what would leave her naked before him. Flashbacks of that first night.. In her fear, Persephone hurt herself further.. The pain not registering above her panic. The same word was repeated or variations of it, punctuated by whimpers and cries of pain.

Yet, had she taken a moment and not reacted in blind fear she might have noticed that he took care to not touch her bare skin. That he didn't look longer than he needed to. It would have soothed her. But that wasn't how fear worked. The word had fallen on deaf ears and by the time he'd stripped her she was on the floor, in a ball, tail wrapped between her legs, ears flat to her head as she whimpered, curling tighter despite the pain it caused. She'd fallen as he'd tried to work on her pants, even with his best efforts to keep her from the cold floor. Persephone's body was a patchwork of cuts, bruises.. burns and more. Like a sadistic quilt had been laid over her body. Delicate patches of green, yellow, purple and pink all laying over each other. A rainbow of pain painted on her skin.

 

[Vekraihr]

Ares couldn’t help but feel something deep within him as that sweet girl he once knew stared blankly around without much of the light left in her eyes. Grief might have been a good name for it, but he wouldn’t know what to call it. He’d never felt anything like what she’d made him feel; not before, when she had made him truly happy, and not now when he couldn’t feel that happiness from her presence. Somewhere inside, he could sense she was still there but there wasn’t any way for one such as she was to maintain herself as a whole after what she had been through. And, he sure as hell wasn’t an expert on how to help put those pieces back together, either. So, why had she come here in search of him? She certainly seemed to hold it against him for leaving and perhaps even blamed what happened before on him, too. He couldn’t be certain what was going through her head and he didn’t want to dwell on it too much lest it sours his mood further. Besides, she needed him and he wanted to be there for her in any way that he could in order to bring maybe even a shred of her back to him.

And, despite herself, she did seem to revel in his touch ever so slightly so maybe there was a part of her that remembered he was good to her.

However, her response to him attempting to undress her quickly overwhelmed the more pleasant thoughts going through his mind as he carefully and methodically undressed her. Even as she fought, he wouldn’t use too much force or strike her in any way. He controlled his touch, made sure he was doing everything he could to make Persephone feel safe and secure. And, yet, it seemed to do nothing as she cowered and whimpered and even fell to the floor, curled in upon herself for security as she whimpered. And, he could see why she whimpered so. Crimson flashed in his eyes again and his blood boiled seeing the extent of the damage caused to her. ‘Simply unforgivable...I’m going to enjoy killing every last one of them just a little more…’ he thought as he furrowed his brow with frustration.

What was he supposed to do in this circumstance? He’d never comforted anyone who’d been hurt like this before, and he wasn’t sure if he even could as he chewed on the inside of his lip as the gears churned in his head. One thing was certain, though, and that was she couldn’t keep laying on the floor like that. Without another thought, he ripped the padded blazer off of his broad frame and gently set the fabric that had been so luxuriously warmed by his body over her. Then, as if by instinct, his bloodstained fingers softly settled against the back of her ears and he ever so softly and slowly began to pet them. ’Cats like this, right?’ he thought as he slowly stroked his large fingers back and forth over her ears and his fingernails just barely rubbed against her skin. It was strange, he'd never pet her ears before nor felt the inclination but, he had to admit, her fur felt rather pleasant against his skin. Or, maybe it was just because of how he cared for her that it felt nice? He wasn't sure and he was questioning himself a little as to why he'd not done this sooner.

As he rubbed her ears, he carefully began to tuck the blazer around her more so that the fabric slowly started to get between her bare skin and the cool, smooth floor. ”Persephone, I’m going to help you, alright? I promise, I’ll help.” he spoke more quietly than she’d ever heard him speak before, his low tone a gentle, warm rumble as he looked at her with a solemn expression. Heartbreak was slowly growing more evident on his face as he looked at how far she’d fallen. After a moment, he swallowed another lump from his throat and shifted, looking down to the bloodied shirt he was wearing. Reaching up with the hand that had been tucking his blazer under her, he started to undo the buttons to remove the shirt so that she didn’t have to look at the blood on him when she finally did look at him again. He tossed it to the side, revealing the muscular upper body of his, carved like a statue and nearly blemishless save for some strange discoloring and the knife wound that was nearly finished closing. Not that it would do much for the traces of blood still on his face and in his hair, though, but he’d largely forgotten about that already.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, his fingers would leave her ears and he would walk over towards the shower so that he might start a pleasantly warm flow. Soon, the chamber was filled with the sound of running water like the falling of rain and he walked over towards her once again. ”Persephone, your arm is broken, so I need to help wash you, okay?” he said with a calm, soothingly sweet tone as he started to scoop her up off of the ground, blazer and all. He didn’t know why he was talking to her so much, since she wasn’t responding, but he somehow felt like that might help put her at ease. And, besides, it couldn’t hurt, could it? As he lifted her up, bringing her close to his broad chest, there were still tender areas that were still mending from his previous encounter with the Cabal. Subtle bruising just beneath the skin, left from far more grave injuries that were tended to by the good doctor.

 

[Bunny]

His touch, even with the trauma offered her something that she couldn't ignore. A part, albeit a small part, knew that Ares had never once touched her like that. Had never hurt her. It was hard for Persephone to separate that part though, yet she so desperately wanted comfort... It showed how she'd leaned into his hand some. It was perhaps the only saving grace for the ordeal that had gone down in that bathroom and would only continue as she fought against him, even to the point of hurting herself.

Ares was careful, made efforts to not touch her unless required and Persephone still fought, the fear riding her hard. On some level she noticed the care, the gentleness in which he touched her. She knew he needed to do this, but panic, blinding in nature consumed her. The last time she'd been stripped.. she'd been abused, raped and left for others to come in... do the same. She'd curled tight, ignoring the pain that screamed along her ribs, arm.. her skin. Ares was not the best person in the universe to offer the support and care she needed. It was not in his normal wheel house.

Warmth washed over her and the trembling slowed and just as slowly came to a stop. This was perhaps helped by the hand that stroked her ears, the slow, rhythmic petting soothing. A week purr left her, the sound vibrating through her body. He'd feel it as he slowly tucked his jacket around her, the edges slowly stopping the cold of the floor touching her skin. The softness of his voice made her eyes open, and she looked up at him, her eyes were still wide with fear, but she was looking at him, as she purred from the pets. While it had never occurred to Ares to pet her ears, it was something, oddly enough, that had never been done to her. It was sort of a limit that most people had, an invasion of personal space in their eyes.

The look on his face might have made her own heart hurt had she been able to process it properly. She watched him remove his shirt and her eyes closed tightly, the curling beginning again. He hadn't done anything wrong, but the image brought back a wave of memories. The petting stopped and she bit back a whimper, the touch had been.. nice. She heard him walk away, his shoes on the marble. Soon the shower started and she did whimper when he told her he'd need to help. A part of her understood, it did.. But she didn't want to be touched. It wasn't surprising, after the abuse she'd taken.

Close to his chest though, the warmth of his body leaking around her, Persephone slowly opened her eyes looking up at him. The part of her that wasn't broken tried to rationalize with the part of her that was fractured. He wasn't touching her like they had. He seemed to care for her. The other part could just see what was coming.. His hands on her. At some point, in the compound, there had been others who had taken care of her, but even they had given in. She didn't stop them or fight. She'd escaped inside herself, waiting for it all to be over.

"Please Ares," the words were a whisper and not even Persephone knew what she was asking from him.

 

[Vekraihr]

Ares took slow, careful steps on his way over to the shower with Persephone in his grasp. He wanted to make sure he didn’t jostle her too much, as he wasn’t certain to the extent of her injuries. Every movement she made seem to hurt her and he wanted to do whatever he could to help her. He wasn’t expecting to find her eyes open on him and he glanced down towards her, eyes the color of caramel, as she looked up at him. A soft, warm smile reassuring her that he was there to help her before her words struck him. “Of course, Persephone...Of course,” he spoke back to her with an even, gentle tone as he carried her to the edge of the shower door. He wasn’t certain as to what she was asking him, but he would move Heaven and Earth for her should she ask it of him.

Carefully, he’d swing the shower door open and then dropped the blazer from Persephone’s slight frame. Then he, still clothed from the waist down, stepped into the shower with her in his embrace. Water immediately began to run crimson with the blood soaking both of them and Ares gave her a gentle smile as his slacks and boxers began to soak through and his shoes began filling with water. Under normal circumstances, he would never ruin perfectly good clothes by bringing them into the water but, for Persephone, he didn’t think twice. He knew the trauma she’d undergone, how it would send her fighting him further to see him undress more. He didn’t want her to relive it again and again, and he knew it would be bad enough just with him washing her. But, perhaps one gesture would be enough to soothe her spirit just a little and she wouldn’t feel the need to fight against him.

He’d place Persephone onto the warmed tiles that had been pleasantly and thoroughly heated through by the water of the shower. Then, he’d reach up and grab a pink-colored glass bottle that appeared oddly out of place among the others of green, blue, and black. As he opened the stopper, a smell wafted out to greet him, of Persephone’s natural aroma. Ares had commissioned someone to make something that hit his nose just like her so that he might have the women he’d slept with smell as Persephone did. Something about her smell appealed to him on a deep, primal level and he’d hoped that the familiarity of it would help her to some degree, too. The bottle had no label but was hexagonal in shape which told him it was shampoo. The others were square and rounded, conditioners and body wash, respectively, and he would have a shape of each in the color he’d chosen to represent her.

With the bottle in hand, Ares knelt down in the shower next to her and he poured some of the luxurious liquid into his hand. Bringing both together and rubbing for a moment, he’d get both hands evenly coated before reaching towards the girl to work the shampoo into her hair and the fur of her ears. He took care not to get the shampoo into her ears, having heard that was particularly unpleasant for those of her kind, and his fingers worked the shampoo all the way down to her scalp. His fingers, both cybernetic and otherwise, massaged over her scalp as he worked the shampoo in deeply and thoroughly before he put another dollop into his hand to work the shampoo through her tail this time. He found himself, from time to time, staring at that fluffy tail of hers. It was unusual, seeing one modeled from a cat with such volume to their tail fur, but perhaps that was part of her allure?

It was hard to think about those things, now, seeing the state she was in. Every moment was painful for her, a memory of what had befallen her because he had left without her. Her pain was emblazoned in his mind, drilled there by his affection for her and the guilt he felt for leaving both times. It was a bitter taste, but one he would remember to be used against those who had dared to raise themselves against her. Against his will. They’ll learn to regret their very lives...Their hearts for still beating...Their minds for staying present to witness what will be done to them...I’ll make them pay...Every ounce of her skin is worth a thousand pounds of their corpses… he thought to himself as he envisioned the carnage awaiting him. He would have been lying if he said the prospect didn’t excite him at least a little bit.

Finished with the shampooing, Ares reached up and lifted a handheld sprayer from the side of the shower and he began to attentively rinse her tail, ensuring all the shampoo had left it before he moved on to the white and pink hair atop her head. “Persephone, I need you to close your eyes for me, okay? I’ve gotta rinse your head,” he instructed her softly as he reached to cover the opening of her ear with one hand so he could rinse it without worry before moving on to the other. Whether or not she listened to him, he did his best to keep the shampoo from running into her face in general, though there wasn’t anything to prevent it. Once rinsed of the shampoo, he would slowly stand, muscles rippling as his imposing figure rose above her. He hoped she wouldn’t be too scared of him, wistfully remembering the time when he’d made her feel safe instead. But, he hadn't considered that it was his maleness alone that terrified the girl.

He would come back down with the square bottle of conditioner and the round bottle of liquid soap, kneeling once again next to her with his sodden clothing clinging to his sturdy frame. He’d pour a generous amount of the conditioner into his hands, certain she’d not gotten this kind of treatment in quite some time. From root to tip, through her fur and all through her tail, he’d massage the conditioner in so the oils and botanical extracts could help to rejuvenate her fur. He wasn’t much for emotional intimacy, but he knew physical comforts fairly well. For him, few others felt quite as pleasant as the feeling of someone washing you from head to toe, and especially the head. He’d hope that, at least, a little comfort reached her from his efforts. He would certainly understand if they didn’t, considering her seemingly disrupted state of mind.

Then came the more troublesome part of washing her body. Ares knew it was about to be an uphill battle and he tried not to dwell on what would be going through her head as he started to soap up a loofah glove. He figured that the less his hands directly touched her, the better, and so he went to work using the loofah glove to carefully wash her. He tended to the delicate features of her face, then around the soft slope of her neck before continuing to her shoulders. He would adjust pressure, ensuring not to hurt her bruising but wanting to give her a thorough washing at the same time. If she fought, he’d place a hand on her head and start to gently, soothingly caress her ears with the back of his fingers while speaking smoothly in his relaxed voice, “It’s going to be okay. I won’t hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. I promise.” His hand would continue along her arm, to her hand, and then to the other arm and onward. Along her back, following her gentle, feminine curves as he approached the rise of her rear. Ares braced himself for more screaming as his loofah-covered hand began to wash gently over the slopes of her body.

 

[Bunny]

Tenderness was not something she was used to and from one such as Ares it was likely not something he was used to. Had Persephone been in her right mind, she would have noticed the care he took, the way he was careful of her injuries, while also trying to offer comfort to her. Her mind wasn't in a place to notice the sweetness from Ares though and so it was missed. The heightened fear couldn't be shaken and Persephone didn't even have it in her to try. Her plea, unknown to either of them was answered with a calming tone, as he did his best to soothe someone so far gone. In Ares' line of work, in his personal life, it was doubtless that he'd ever been like this for anyone, lover or otherwise, but for her, for Persephone, he was willing to do anything for her.

When his blazer dropped from her slender form, Persephone fought to keep it, the ensuing little bout of tug of war ended with her losing and her body curling smaller. Ares remained clothed, but that detail was lost in her panic. Wide eyes had seen the kindness on his face, but it slipped past her without a second thought. Being naked, even as he was clothed didn't mean he wouldn't hurt her.. it hadn't meant that then and separating then and now was all but impossible. Her hell seemed to be a revolving nightmare. Ares' attempt to put her on her feet was met with instant bonelessness. Ares was left scrambling to catch her, while trying to not hurt her. Lowered to the warm tiles Persephone curled up. She wasn't making his job easier, she might have felt bad about that, had she been all there. She wasn't and the care she might have given him gone.

No matter, Ares was still sweet. He understood, even if it tore at him. Never once did he allow any anger to show, nor frustration. In fact, for the most part Ares tried to control his features. The smell of herself was not something she noticed much, it was just background noise for her nose, though when the bottle was uncorked the scent tickled her nose. For a moment, her eyes seemed to flash with acknowledgement. Persephone's body relaxed some, the only sign that she was even trying for him. The effort, to show some sign of life, not be an empty shell was exhausting. Some other time she could question why he had a bottle of shampoo saturated in her scent. What purpose it served. This night, it did just as he hoped, though barely, giving her some peace. His own scent had often been calming for her, something she'd never shared. Yet, she'd been around him enough to find comfort in his own scent. He had always been a silent protector, keeping her safe. His scent had lingered in the compound for a little while, though it had faded shortly before or during the first attack, as if they'd shattered it along with her in one fell swoop. The spicy warm woods that she'd come to associate with Ares. The notes had been complex, not that she'd ever lingered long enough to identify them. Had she, she might have enjoyed the intertwining of inherently masculine scents.

the touch of his hands was met with a flinch, a contracting of her body. Though, slowly she relaxed again. In a better state of mind, she might have purred, leaned into his touch, much like the cats she'd been molded after. Any other time she might have found deep satisfaction with the care and feeling of his fingers working down to her scalp. He kept to her hair and fur at first, it allowed her to relax under the gentle touches. Neither area was hurt too badly. She'd been grabbed by her hair quite frequently, he'd seen an example of it in the club. Yet, it didn't bother her. The panic still cling to her, bitterly, but she was relaxing. She heard him speak, but didn't respond verbally, yet, her eyes closed for him. An obedient girl. Soap was cleaned from her hair, ears and tail. One of her ears gave a flicker, then another, shaking free drops of water from the edge. Eyes still closed, she felt him stand. shifting slightly, she peeked at his towering form. She was already so small, but on the floor he was a giant. Unexpectedly, her fear didn't spike, but it also didn't get any better.

Pampering wasn't something she had ever been used to. Perhaps with her 'mother', but she'd never enjoyed that. It had been for things she'd have rather not done. Much like all of this experience, Persephone might have enjoyed the treatment a lot more, had fear, rational or otherwise clinging to her. Her eyes closed again though as he began to work in the conditioner. Some part of her seemed to understand the comfort offered, but it was drowned out... She didn't flinch away from his hands for the moment at least perhaps a small triumph in his eyes? It wouldn't last though and no doubt Ares knew that. He'd tackled the easy parts first, the rest would be far from it.

He started small, cleaning her face. The scrubbing of the mesh netting was gentle, even pleasant. He tried, honest to goodness, Ares tried to comfort her as the mesh sponge moved lower. It didn't register. The last man who'd come at her had been killed. His words fell on deaf ears the moment he moved to touch any part of her that was private. Her breasts or otherwise, she lashed out. Her body was broken, hurting.. but it was clear Persephone had had enough. She moved like a hellcat, hissing and trying to scratch and bite him. Some of her attacks landed, the pain of her movements didn't even register, the blind panic eating it away, though the damage was still occurring. She was hurting herself more. Teeth sank into his arm and she growled, the sound feline and clearly unhappy. When he pulled her back she hissed, teeth flashing followed by more growling, the low, rumbling sound clearly unhappy. Ears flat to her head, she threatened to bite him again, delicate fangs flashing in the light.

 

[Vekraihr]

Tenderness didn’t come naturally to the man who cared for Persephone in a gentle nature unbefitting his usual demeanor. He could only imagine the jeering his previous subordinates might have put him through to only see him caring for her in the subdued, gentle way he did now. However, softness would only go so far and, when Persephone tried to clutch onto the blazer to keep it on her petite frame, he merely continued to firmly pull it away until she could no longer keep hold of it. There was no malice in the action, no intent to harm or maim, but an understanding that what must be done will be done. As he placed her onto her feet, he felt her starting to go limp and he immediately shot down to keep her from crashing into the tiled floor, his own knees slamming into the tiles firmly to keep her from doing so. Regardless of whether or not it hurt him, his face didn’t show it or register anything other than that strange serenity only he seemed to always be able to feel.

Ares’ lips twitched into a small smile when he saw that ever so slight relaxation in her when he produced the shampoo with her scent. Indeed, she was in there somewhere and he would merely need to do what he could to help her back out— help her reassemble the pieces of what those undeserving pricks had broken in her. What he didn’t know is how Persephone had found his own scent to be soothing, too. Notes of warm cinnamon, fragrant mandarin and lemon, with the subtlety of lavender to draw in the curiosity, with fruity notes to highlight those bright smells & cumin to highlight the warmth. Layered beneath were powerful, seductive aromas: warm, evocative incense, powerful tobacco and leather, the warm, balsamic vanilla notes of benzoin, with the cozy amber musk of iso e super, made more alluring with the scents of cedar, cypress, and patchouli. His smell had been designed by both mother and father, the perfect masculinity to highlight their perfect vision. How they’d come to regret their decision for giving such a provocative, alluring scent to such a murderous personality.

Every flinch of her body painted the inside of Ares’ mind with renewed fury, a murderous streak that wouldn’t be sated until he had personally taken care of everyone complicit in her attacks. Regardless, he continued on and was rewarded with the subtle relaxations she made when he found himself washing through her hair. Her obedient eye closing was met with another small smile, unseen and gone by the time her eyes opened and he stood over her, a looming protector that came slowly back down to his knees next to her, ready to attend to her needs again. However, he wasn’t so foolish as to presume it would all be this easy and he’d anticipated the fighting when he got to her more intimate areas.

However, he’d not been counting on her being so fierce, lashing out towards him with teeth and nails. Scratches landed, leaving red wounds in their wake but none were so severe as when her teeth sank into the arm he held up to keep her from scratching his face. As her teeth sank in, her mouth filled with the bitter iron of blood but there wasn’t any sort of a fierce reaction or retribution from him. Merely a warm, if not slightly apologetic, smile and a look of recognition in his eyes showing that he understood what she was experiencing. Indeed, some lashed out to him when he’d taken his time killing them; that primal fear that stoked the rate of the heart and chilled the blood. Ares’ was done being completely soft, though, and his arm had already started to knit the wound closed when his voice rose, firm and resolute as she hissed, ”Enough!” Despite the volume, there wasn’t anger or frustration in his voice, but rather a protective tone that bordered on paternal as his eyes focused on her arm. The powerful bass of his voice reverberated for a moment in the glass stall before even that brought itself to a calm and his rich, golden brown hues held steadily upon her. He hadn't the knowledge nor the experience to know fully how one should conduct oneself in such a situation. If he had, he may not have raised his voice as he did.

Had she have been of a sound state of mind, she would have easily seen that he meant her no harm as he moved towards her, slow but steady. It wouldn’t matter if she bit him again as he reached out towards her and wrapped his right arm around her waist. It wouldn’t matter if she clawed at him as he brought her bare upper body against his and he held her firmly against him, her head level with his broad shoulder. “That’s enough, Persephone…It’s me, Ares...I won’t hurt you,” quieter, this time, but no less authoritative and protective while his arm left her waist and went to hold her arm above where it was broken, softly pinning it against her side so that she couldn’t lash out with it anymore. The hues of his eyes took on a slightly blue tint, betraying the sorrow he felt at her mental state as he brought the sponge back up to begin washing her again. His eyes had never become blue before and, had he seen it, he likely would have been shocked by the development. Rather than going back to wash her rear, the covered hand would instead go to wash her legs as he held her firmly against him with his one arm. While his calm, collected facade had faltered at that moment, his brow wrinkled with his concerns as a soft frown tugged at the corners of his lips. In his mind, he couldn’t stop blaming himself for how she’d been treated and the fractured state of her consciousness as a whole.

 

[Bunny]

Small things and large. That was what she missed. Perhaps someday, she would recall these events and feel the humor and the shame from what unfolded in that shower. From the tug of war, Ares insisted he win, stripping the blazer from her hands. The tenderness was so at odds. The fall of his knees against the hard tile to prevent her own body from hitting the floor. Nothing showed in his face for her befuddled mind to confuse. Ares kept his features calm, serene even. Every time that Persephone dared to raise her eyes to his face, she didn't see anger, lust, hatred.. nothing but that calmness. His eyes shifted sometimes, the color changing and while that offered some confusion, it did nothing to further upset her. The care he took was commendable, because Persephone fought him almost every step. Not physically, at least not at first. She offered no assistance. The choice was not a conscious one, she didn't choose to be a doll in his arms or to fight him for the protection of his jacket... it was instinctual on some level.. primal in her fear.

The scent of him and her mingled and mixed. It too offered her comfort, helping her relax beneath his tender care. To look within, it was almost as if she'd escaped. Within her mind, safe, Persephone hid, though... safe was a relative term. Her mind was fractured. Once, it had been like a sheet of smooth stained glass. She'd been made, crafted and her mother had done a number, but she'd been sweet.. whole. Now she sat within the darkness, shards of razor sharp colored glass floated around her. Shards touching, brushing against one another.. shattering the already fragile shards into splinters. Those shards, splinters brushing against her within the dark. Bloodied even within her mind she was grasping for pieces, trying to solve the puzzle..

There was a clear effort, at least of a sort. When he'd asked her eyes to close, they had. She'd been slowly relaxing, cocooned in their scents and warmth of the shower. She'd missed the smile, but when she felt his body shift, kneeling before her, Persephone opened her eyes, the dullness as she looked out from those multicolored irises. She didn't know what was coming, not like he did. Though her reaction was no doubt expected on some level, though perhaps not to the extent that it occurred. Hellcat, would have been adept as she came to life before him. He pried her free from his arm, as she still tried to fight him, all wellbeing and concern for herself gone. Hissing, growls, the wetness of her tail curling between her legs. The sound of his voice made her flinch. It wasn't the tone, but the volume. She went from fighting to cowering in seconds. Had she been the feline she'd been designed off of, she might have pressed her stomach to the floor, a wholly submissive act.. her tail had it not been soaked would have bristled.

The understanding wasn't there, even as he pulled her to his chest, pinning her arm in place, to make sure she couldn't hurt herself further. Ares seemed to understand and his sponge went elsewhere. Washing her was important, had she understood, it would have made sense. Her tail and ears did not move. Flat, curled.. She was protecting herself in a new way. Touches that strayed too close to her breasts.. or lower would be answered with a low, vicious growl. If he got too close to her mouth, she'd bite him. It was clear she'd had enough... She'd come into his club covered in blood that wasn't her own. The way she fought back now. Persephone wouldn't be touched like that again... Never again.

The fight had only caused her body to start hurting all over.. Not that it had ever faded, but she'd exacerbated her injuries. A soft, trembling began somewhere inside her, and then the audible sound of her purring filled the shower. The sound was rough, as it rumbled from her throat. In pain, she was offering herself comfort, soothing the pain she'd created. He'd feel it through his arms, that rumble. Eyes closed tightly, her posture didn't change. The only other change had some with her breathing coming in shallower pants. When her eyes opened, if he could see them, they would be drowning in the blackness of her pupils, another indication of her pain. As long as he was careful though, she wouldn't attack quite like she had and he'd be able to finish bathing her.

 

[Vekraihr]

Ares’ eyes would tinge a further shade of blue as Persephone cowered from the volume in his voice, his heart aching a little more for the poor girl who had suffered so and continued to from the actions of her imprisoners. However, her warning would have left an impact that would be heeded and his hand never strayed too close to her inner thighs nor to her breasts. He’d hope, at some point, it would become clear that he would do nothing to harm her, and she would grow to trust him. He knew he had her trust before, but he’d abandoned that when he fled without her and left her to fend for herself while he licked his wounds and prepared to come for her again. But, she had made her own way and it hadn’t quite hit him until that moment the terror she must have felt to take a life. For him, it was as easy as drawing a breath and as pleasant as the warmth of the sun on his face. She wasn’t like him. She was tender and fragile, sweet and kind, small and warm— everything Ares was not.

Then, he felt the purring that started to rumble into him and he looked down towards her as the ragged noise left her. She was so hurt that it must have been devastatingly painful for her to lash out at him like that. His irises slowly shifted to a deep shade of blue that was nearly black as the weight of her suffering bore down upon him. Slowly, the arm that held her in place shifted until his fingers traced a path along the back of her scalp and he began gently stroking affectionate rhythms against her ears.

At that moment, a memory played in his head as vividly as the day he’d experienced it. He was smaller, then, but larger than most of the children— not that he’d spent much time around other children, with eerily black irises rather than the vibrant litany of hues his eyes reflected now. His mother, Helen, was sitting with him on a comfortable black leather couch as she looked at him with stern, but loving, green eyes. ‘Always make that special lady in your life feel treasured...There is nothing a woman loves more than to feel like nobody else in the world matters more than she does to her love...I know you’ll find her someday, Ares. The person you'll love. Everyone does. Just learn how to treat her properly, okay?' her voice was kind and soft, like a warm bed at the end of a long day. She took it upon herself to try and instill in him the correct behaviors, given as he had no sense of how to do it himself. Every day, she strived to teach him affection, compassion, and morality. Some of it had an impact, while the rest lived within him as memories, never truly utilized and nearly forgotten as his lifestyle propelled him towards that darker nature of his.

Within that memory, he found words enough that he might speak in order to help bring Persephone some comfort. “You’re doing such a good job, Persephone...I’m so very proud of you for making it here...For being able to stand...For trusting me enough to withstand being washed,” he encouraged her, subtle warmth in his voice as his volume came softly and his tone carried a soothing resonance. As his covered hand finished with her stomach, he moved along to each of her arms and washed down to each of her fingertips. Gently, he would try to scour the blood from her nails so that no remnants of what she had to do remained other than what laid buried in her psyche.

With his fingers continuing to dance slowly against the fur of her ears, he reached up to grab one of the shower heads, separated it from its holder, and began to rinse the soap from her dutifully. Slowly, his eyes began to shift back to the familiar, warm amber she’d grown used to as he suppressed the sorrow. She needed his strength, his support, and to see him as a beacon of hope and salvation. There would be a time for him to grieve her condition, but now wasn’t the right moment to do it. With the suds gone, there were gentle moisturizers left behind that would nourish her skin and help it to recover at the surface. Dr. Elizabeth would attend to the rest of the wounds, he was certain, and he could go about the business of protecting and guarding her without concern for her physical well-being. At least, he hoped that would be the case. He’d hang the showerhead back in its place and he’d run his fingers over a screen that’d shut the water off. Releasing her from his strong grasp, he stood with his fingers lingering a moment longer on her ears before he turned to open the shower door.

Deftly, he’d grab a luxurious towel from the nearby rack and he’d gently drape it around her body and he started to dry her off. “Just need to dry you off so you don’t get cold, okay? Hang in there for me, Persephone. I know you can do it,” he continued to provide messages of support, hoping they would do at least something to give the sweet girl any relief. Anything to keep her from feeling the need to lash out again and further aggravate the litany of wounds she held within her. Again, he would avoid touching her where it might earn him another bite to the arm— not for his safety but her own sake. Once he'd gently toweled off the majority of her body, he looked to her uninjured arm and he took her hand in his and gently brought it over to the towel and had her grab onto it with a soft coaxing from his own fingers. “Can you finish the job for me? I know you don’t want to be touched in those places, and so I won’t anymore,” his words, while vague, were a promise, one that might have well fallen on a mind incapable of understanding the sincerity but he wanted her to hear it nonetheless. At some point, something had to get through, wouldn’t it? He wasn’t sure if this was the best way to proceed with her, but he had to do something. Still wearing those soaking wet clothes and shoes, he noisily walked over towards the vanity sink. From beneath it, he produced a hairdryer and a brush made for women’s hair and set them both upon a stool nearby.

Then, he’d stroll back over to the rack nearby the shower and he’d produce a similarly luxurious robe that would easily envelop the petite frame of Persephone. “Are you finished drying off? I’ll cover you up with this robe until we can get you some proper clothes, alright?” he continued to communicate every action to her, feeling as though it might help her to respond better. Soon, the doctor would be there and she could help Persephone with her injuries. Hopefully, she could give him enough time to order clothes for the catgirl that would suit her preferences. Or, at least, a change or two that way she could regain some modesty and feel more comfortable to pick out more to wear for herself. Once she was ready, he would carefully slip the robe around her and help slide the sleeve over her injured arm so that she wouldn’t even need to move it before helping the other arm into the other. She would be positively swaddled in a comfortable, fluffy fabric that was subtly warm and smelled strongly of his masculine aroma.

It was at that moment that a feminine voice called softly from speakers unseen somewhere within the room, “Hello? Ares, it’s Dr. Elizabeth. I’m in your foyer and am ready to see the patient whenever you are prepared. Let me know and we’ll set up for treatment in the usual room.” Ares would respond with, “Thank you for hurrying, Doctor. We’re currently in the bathroom at the end of the hall to the right. If you could begin setting up in our usual room, we should be ready shortly.” Once he finished with that, he looked to Persephone with those warm, nearly golden hues and gestured to the vanity. “If you would like, take a seat and I can brush your hair and you can dry it or you can brush and I will dry it,” he suggested calmly and with a subtle sweetness in his voice, hoping the presence of someone else in the home wasn’t too much for her. ‘Show her gestures of your affection...Of your devotion...And you will make her happy.’ his mother’s voice in his mind once again, he looked at Persephone with more warmth than he’d ever given another. He knew she was in pain but he needed her to be more comfortable so the doctor could at least get her sedate enough to treat her.

 

[Bunny]

The sadness in his eyes, the color unheard of before this night missed by them both. Persephone couldn't think in terms that he had wished. The gang had never once harmed her, not until he'd left. In her broken mind, he'd been the catalyst. He was also the reason she'd been protected for so long. The juxtaposition between both facets was harder still for her to understand. Ares himself had never hurt her. Not even now. Had the tiny female been sound of mind, she would have been able to understand the damage she suffered from the shower had not been on Ares; he'd gone out of his way to make sure she was not harmed, harming himself in the process. Any injuries from the night, at least once they'd entered his private residence, had all been borne of fear and caused by blind panic. If and when the night's events became clear, there would be guilt for her actions.

The fingers that brushed against her ears brought with them comfort. They slowly, oh so slowly, rose from her scalp. Slowly perking up so they no longer rested flat against her head, though far from the perky upright pose they normally were in. The rumble of his voice was heard and even understood on some level. In his arms, she'd been tense and his words caused her to slowly relax. Warmth in his voice made her shift some. Subconsciously Ares had always been her safe place. She'd never once noticed it and after he left she'd been too angry. However, lack of awareness did not change the facts.

The bathing continued, but she no longer fought. More or less, Persephone had returned to her prone position, listless in his arms. Within turmoil swirled. Something inside her reacted favorably to the comfort he offered, foreign as it was for him to give. The care he took was sweet, trying to erase the last vestiges of the horror from her skin. The damage would linger for a while longer, but unbeknownst to her, not much longer. Ares had plans. As with everything so far as Ares washed the soap from her skin and fur, he took care, the warm water washing the incandescent bubbles from her skin.

Gently shifted to the floor, the water was turned off and the door was opened. Fluffy warm enveloped her as he began to dry her off, careful to avoid the places that would aggravate her delicate psyche further. When it came to finishing drying her off the towel was pressed against her hand carefully . It took her a few moments, struggling to rise from the pit she'd fallen so deeply within. Slowly fingers curled around the towel and she held it to herself, so when he stood, it didn't fall to the floor. The footsteps receding helped her move. One could not say she moved with grace or great purpose, but Persephone made the effort to do as he'd requested of her. Her skin was still dewy in the end, but no longer dripping.

Much like his coat, she clung to the towel, but she didn't fight nearly as hard as she found him wrapping her in the plushness of a robe that covered her from neck to past her knees. The fact that he explained each step did help, though it hadn't seemed to before. His scent enveloped her and a shuddering breath left her. She cuddled deeper into the fabric and allowed him to help her move to the stool. The female's voice was more or less ignored as was his own. The rumble of sound comforting to be sure, but the meaning was mostly ignored. Neither the brush or hair dryer taken. No, Persephone buried deeper into the scent that surrounded her.

The purring had yet to end, still making her small body tremble with the force of the sound. Soon there would be no more pain and Ares and she both would have to deal with the fall out of the abuse on a mental level as well as a physical one. Heavy lashes rested close to her cheek. Then something happened that would definitely stand out. Persephone nuzzled her face against the plush robe, as if marking it with her own scent or desperately trying to mark herself with it's scent. Whichever, the action was something different from all other actions before. Slowly her eyes opened and the mismatched hues could be seen in the mirror. Unfocused, but there.

 

[Vekraihr]

With the rise in her ears, the slight relaxation of her body, and how she seemed to still trust him enough to continue washing her. Especially after the lash out that left them both hurting, but her more than he as the wound left on his arm had healed just moments after she’d left it. Ares wished he could turn back the dial of time, go back and steal her away before any harm could have ever come to her. But, such as it was, time marched inexorably forward and he had to deal with the situation as it stood and he was determined to make a difference for her. After they’d finished in the shower, with her figure covered in the copious amounts of the robe that exuded his scent, he couldn’t help but notice how she buried herself into the fabric. He wondered, silently, if it was due to the comfort the material offered or if solace was found in the scent he’d left behind in it.

Then, something happened that left him bewildered and he tilted his head a little as she nuzzled her face down into his robe. ’Is she marking it…? Or, is she trying to mark herself with my scent?’ he wondered to himself as he couldn’t help but smile a little at the cutely girlish, albeit animalistic behavior. He noticed her eyes open after and he did his best not to make eye contact with her, even through the mirror, but she would see the golden amber of his eyes revitalize as she seemed to take a step forward. Since she ignored both the hairdryer and the brush, he picked one up in each hand and he began to carefully brush her hair, starting with the ends on her left side, as he fanned the heated gusts of air along where he brushed. Slowly, he’d work his way up in swathes as he brushed through her hair with a carefully considered hand, though he certainly could use a little more training on his brushing as his touch would be just a little rough around the edges. He’d pull a little and catch her scalp a little more than he might mean to, but overall, he was doing fairly well.

After he finished with her head and he’d dried the fur of her ears, he’d wonder briefly if she’d like to have her tail dried. But, seeing as how it was currently beneath the robe and with how enamored she was with it, he decided it best to leave it for now. With the hairdryer off and both it and the brush back within their place in the vanity, Ares looked towards her with that warm glint in his eyes and a smile that just barely touched his eyes. He couldn’t fully, genuinely smile with her being in the pain she was in, but he was trying his best to offer one to her. He was still tolerating the sodden clothing that stuck to his lower half, his torso and hair still damp and glistening with moisture as he all but forgot himself in order to attend to her.

“Persephone...Kitten, we’re going to go see the doctor now, okay? She’s very good and she’ll make sure the pain goes away, okay?” he spoke to her with his calm, even tone and he’d slowly approach her before he’d slip an arm underneath her legs and the other around her shoulders. With ease, he’d hoist her and cradle her as one might with someone near and dear to them, and he’d give her a reassuring smile. “You’ll be feeling better before you know it...No more...” he added but stopped short of listing her injuries, hoping she would at least understand the necessity of treatment for how badly she was injured. His pause was to spare both her the horror of recounting the injuries in her mind’s eye and from him losing himself to his anger by thinking of how badly she’d been savaged. She would feel, though, the slight tremble in his hand as he began to carry her, of the anger he held within to spare her from the sight of it.

She’d be carried into the hallway, back the way they’d come from and towards a door on their right side around 20 feet down from the bathroom. Inside, he could hear the pacing footsteps of Dr. Elizabeth who, as she came into sight, would be wearing a pair of square, silver-framed spectacles that sat over a pair of deep purple eyes with silver hair that was pulled into a neat bun atop her head. Her face was kind and feminine, slightly round at the cheeks despite her slim figure. She’d stand around 5’6” and she was dressed in a smartly white, long-sleeved overcoat that buttoned all the way down her front with black leggings and matching dress shoes. She'd look younger than one might expect a doctor to look. However, how old was anyone really in this time where anyone could dictate their appearance?

“Ahh, this must be Persephone,” her voice, clear and bell-like with the slight hint of an Eastern European accent, sounded much warmer in person than when heard over the communicator. “I’m sorry we couldn’t meet under better circumstances. I’m Dr. Adriana Elizabeth and I’m here to help, alright?” she’d offer to the small girl, doubting her words would offer much consolation to her broken spirit. However, she’d found it best to be forthright and communicative with abuse victims in her practice.

Within this dark-walled and tiled floor room, it seemed to be mostly empty save for the stainless steel and white medical bed that sat in the middle of the room, coming up to near waist height on Ares. Nearby sat a black and silver cart with a gray briefcase atop which undoubtedly contained the implements of Dr. Elizabeth’s craft. Overhead, there was a dangling chandelier of lights which could be made to brighten, though were at a soft, comforting hue at the moment. Despite the clean appearance of the room, her keen nose might pick up the lingering remnants of the smell of his blood. If it had really been a week since he’d been attacked, just how injured had he been to still have the aftereffect lingering even after the room has been so apparently cleaned? Slowly, Ares would walk her over towards the medical bed which, while the padding didn’t look too thick or comfortable, would offer her a decent modicum of comfort as he laid her down within. As he did so, his one hand would linger near her ears and he would deftly roll his fingertips against the backs of them in order to instill a further sense of calm in her.

“I’ll be right here, don’t you worry.”

 

[Bunny]

A part of her, the part that wasn't broken, looked out from her jewel toned eyes, watching as he picked up both brush and hairdryer. On some level, though fractured, her mind could see the care and tenderness in which Ares treated her. The trauma of the shower over, she was able to slowly pull herself back. It left her with so many questions and the answers, even if honesty wouldn't have helped. At least not yet. Why had he left her? Did he care for her? His reasoning, honest, true, was likely to fall on deaf ears. It was complicated. Persephone wanted more than anything to trust him, to find solace in the arms of someone she'd once thought at least a friend. The pain that had been caused, far from his control though, had been drilled home by those who had harmed her. Too bad Ares wasn't there. Ares had been the one to keep her tight little ass for so long, but while the cat's away...

The few times the brush caught in her hair, she had winced, but never once did she offer a complaint or attack. Surrounded by his scent, bundled in the warmth and softness of the robe. It was all comforting. That and Persephone was still quite out of it, the lingering shock from the attack below, the bath, lingering. Persephone felt like she was in a haze, the edges of her vision softened, defused. Like when one let their eyes unfocus and the edges of their reality blurred, it was Persephone's whole world at the moment. The pain and the fractured psyche making it hard, if not near impossible for her to focus on any one thing for too long.

The curl of her name from his lips made her look up, but it was the Kitten that made her eyes widen a small fraction. He'd never called her kitten and there was something, much like the way she had burrowed into his scent, marked herself with it, that responded to the sweet nickname. It combined with the promise that the pain would no longer linger in her body, her limbs, was too sweet of an offer for her to resist him. When he picked her up, Persephone curled, ever so slightly into him. It was instinctual, the way she seemed to curl closer. Seeking the comfort she'd once found around him. Lashes fell, hiding her eyes, the gentle sway of their bodies as he carried her, lulling her further into comfort. There was something to be said for the way she seemed to eagerly seek his comfort, even subconsciously, no doubt. He'd eluded, if but for a moment, to what had been done to her and while neither spoke, both reacted. His hands, where they held her, trembled slightly and Persephone had flinched subtly.

The sound of another voice had her eyes opening. There was distrust in her eyes. No one had saved her. Spoken out for her. Though to expect other slave girls to do so was foolish. However, a shattered mind didn't take such things into consideration. How could it? Her life had been a wash of pain and violence. While she'd not lived in that hell long, it had done severe damage to the young neko who had once held one of their own and sung a sweet song to ease his way from this world to the next. Persephone still didn't speak, though she might have been able to. She saw no reason to. Unfocused eyes drifted away from the doctor, staring at the far wall. The rocking began again as Ares moved to the medical bed.

Her nose could pick up the lingering scent of his blood. As he laid her on the bed, she shifted slightly, looking up at him. The brush of his fingers made her eyes close tightly and she exhaled. Her uninjured arm extended some, fingers held out to him. no words came with the movement, just an open palm extended between them. She wanted him to hold her hand. There was a building fear in her chest, that mounted the longer she lay on the bed. She was meant to be healed, but would the process hurt? So tired of hurting Persephone wondered if she'd even really notice the difference if it did. So tired.

They'd never been this close before. Persephone knew that, knew her feelings about being left there to be raped.. beaten. Yet it was his scent that offered comfort and it was his hand she wanted. His chest she wanted to lean against. His strength she wanted to borrow. It was a foreign feeling, the desire to seek that sort of tactile comfort from Ares. So at odds with the bath, at the trauma she'd experienced. The hand reached out and brushed against his stomach. Fingers curled against his stomach. Shifting some, unable to figure out how to request what she needed, she tried to lay her head on his chest, though without his help, she was likely to tumble from the bed.

 

[Vekraihr]

As he carried her along, with her small frame curling towards him for comfort and support, there was a small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. It helped, too, to keep that rage from bubbling over at the mere passing mention of what had happened to her. Merely the tremble in his hands the only indication that he was upset to any degree. Now, with the small girl coming before the doctor, he could feel the language in her body shift to that of distrust and worry. He’d hoped it wouldn’t come, but he knew that it would. How could one such as her merely brush off what had happened? Regardless of who had done it, it wasn’t hard to understand why she wouldn’t trust any strangers.

As her eyes closed to that brushing of his fingers, his own amber hues glanced towards the hand that stretched out towards him ever so softly. He watched as she held her hand, palm open and toward him and his expression melted into a sad smile. He could see the worry on her face and he knew all at once what she was asking for. Then, she asked further without words as she placed a hand upon his stomach and gently gripped at his bare, warm skin. She’d shift, trying to get closer to him and he gasped softly with the realization that she might fall and his one knee quickly dropped to bring his chest closer to her head’s level while his arms braced her body.

Without realizing it, he’d given her exactly what she wanted as his right arm wrapped around her head slightly and nestled it into the firm comfort his still damp chest would provide. His left arm cradled her by the waist as the right arm slowly released her head to seek the her right in order to hold her hand. Being nearer to him, that masculine scent of his would largely overpower the smell of blood within the room. He’d placed his comparatively large hand over hers and closed it slowly and firmly held on. His thumb would slowly caress the back of her hand and her finger as he leaned his head down and nestled his nose into the top of her head. ”Don’t worry, dear Kitten...I have you,” he’d whisper to her as his lips brushed against her forehead, warm and slightly rough as he gave her a soft kiss. It seemed he would have noted the responsiveness she'd had earlier to being called that or, perhaps, he merely enjoyed calling her that of his own volition.

Meanwhile, Dr. Elizabeth held a device in her hand that hummed softly with a strange frequency that diffused through the air and permeated into Persephone in a non-obtrusive but potentially unsettling way. Though, during her hospital stay, she might have experienced a few such scans that were intended to assess the damage to the body in order to determine the best treatment. Her purple hues would shift from gentle concern to deep sadness and then to intense concern as the display created a 3D-model of Persephone’s body and highlighted the areas of her body that were so afflicted. ”A-Ares...I...This is going to take all the Convalessence I have left,” she spoke, her voice quivering softly with emotion as she tried not to think of the extensive damage caused to this sweet girl.

”Is that going to be a problem, Dr. Elizabeth?”, his response would come with a slight tone of agitation to be reminded again of how hurt she was and she’d feel his hand gently shake in hers. However, the stroking of his thumb never ceased and he even made it a point to start drawing little patterns in attempt to distract himself from thinking as his eyes briefly flared crimson. ”Well, no...I just...I just want you to know that it’s going to be expens—” she’d begin, only to be cut off by Ares’ whipping his head in her direction and his eyes flared crimson again. “She’s worth more than any sum of money...It doesn’t matter how much it costs! Fix. Her. Now!” his growling demand was clear in the authoritative force in his voice, though he managed to keep himself from raising the volume to the level of a scream. ”R-right, A-ares, sir…” she’d respond with a bit of timidness in her voice, disliking to provoke his frustration as she knew all too well what he was capable of. Though, she'd hoped her services would offer her some clemency in the case that she might push him over that edge.

Though, it didn’t seem to last as his eyes calmed back to that amber hue while his head nestled down into Persephone’s, as though he grounded himself with her. Adriana steadied her nerves and heaved a sigh of relief as she moved over to the suitcase of medical equipment and popped the silver clasps open. ”Persephone, I’m going to use a little device here that’ll keep you from feeling any pain that may arise from the Convalessence nanites doing their job to heal you up, okay?”, her feminine voice would take on a very smooth, sweet cadence when she addressed the girl and she pulled a small little device that had many legs and looked nearly like a mechanical spider. With Persephone’s head lifted and pressing towards Ares’ chest, it was quite easy for her to slip the device against the base of her skull, where it and her spinal column met and the little legs would clasp onto her skin.

She would only have a brief moment to register it had touched her before, very suddenly, all the pain in her body would vanish as the device gently hummed as it intercepted the pain signals before they could be translated into the sensation by the mind. Then, she’d pull out an antiseptic gel which she spread over the inside crease of Persephone’s right elbow. It might’ve been odd for her to be able to feel the sensation of the cool gel spreading over her skin, the pressure of Adriana’s light touch, but to feel no pain where there had previously been plenty. Then, with that arm prepped, she’d work around Ares as she pulled out a large vial filled with a cloudy, grayish silver liquid. Convalessence was one of the pinnacles of human bio-engineering, a nanite swarm capable of recycling waste and dead materials within the body and repurposing it to heal and maintain healthy tissue.

Dr. Elizabeth would slip the vial into the back of an injector gun, which clicked and hissed as it primed the nanites and activated them, the fluid in the jar gently swirling as the nanites came alive and began running their own little subroutines as tests. She’d adjust the dosage on the side of the gun, indicating to it that a full vial was needed in Persephone’s case. “Here it comes, Persephone...You’ll feel a little pressure and then some coolness that’ll spread, alright?” she’d offer the reassurance of informing the young neko of what was about to happen. All the while, Ares continued to hold her and she would hear his slow, controlled breathing between her ears as his breath warmed her scalp. And, should an ear be pressed close enough, she would hear the steady, slightly hastened rhythm of his heart as it beat strongly within his chest. With the injector gun placed against her arm, a broad hypodermic needle would shoot in, controlled by highly sophisticated sensors that detected just the right depth in order to deliver the nanites.

Indeed, all that Persephone would feel would be a slight pressure from the needle breaking her skin followed by a coolness that spread slowly throughout her body. It might even be enough to make her shiver a little as the nanites surged into her bloodstream and spread throughout her. As the vial was fully emptied into her, the needle would retract back into the gun to be sterilized as Dr. Elizabeth set it aside and shifted around to grab Persephone’s broken arm. Knowing where it was broken and how, thanks to the scanner, she would feel through her skin to assess the break further. ”Ares, I will need you to stabilize her left arm for me up near the apex of the bicep. Could you use your left arm to do that?” she’d ask him as she could feel the nanites starting to gently swarm over the spot where the break was, intending to rectify the fissure as it was discovered. Wordlessly, his left arm would release Persephone’s waist and he reached up to securely and firmly hold at the spot where Adriana had directed him. Adriana would then pull with both of her hands, bringing traction into the arm and she’d shift it slightly while feeling the break so that the bone would set back in its natural position.

Around that time, Persephone would notice a feeling of warmth spreading over her as the nanites began to come fully alive and began swarming to the places where she was injured to eliminate the injuries and replace any damaged tissue fully. With the arm properly set, Dr. Elizabeth would take a few steps back and walk over to her case of medical supplies. ”You may return to holding her as you were...Persephone, you may feel a touch warm from the nanites working. It’s completely normal and the process should take no longer than 10 to 15 minutes,” she’d explain to them both as she moved to clean the gel from Persephone’s arm. Other than a slight bit of blood that came out when the needle released, there wouldn’t be much else as the nanites would have closed the wound nearly instantly.

Over that time, Ares would continue to hold Persephone, stroking her hand and just supporting her against his strong frame as the nanite swarm spread through her body and attentively and thoroughly relieved her of any and all injuries. Tissues that had been stretched and damaged would be knitted back together, organs injured would find themselves fully functional again, bruises would be consumed and repurposed as healthy, pluripotent cells by the incredible technology that now coursed within her. Once they’d finished, the indignities she suffered would have been so thoroughly reversed that, physically, it would be nearly as though they never happened at all. No physical scars nor evidence would remain as the excess warmth in her body would slowly subside. Dr. Elizabeth, with scanner in hand, could see that the nanites had effectively finished the job and she’d walk over toward Persephone and remove the nerve jammer from her neck. As the gentle drone of the machinery ceased, Persephone would feel some lingering remnants of pain as mild tingles that slowly ebbed and faded.

"I hope you feel better, now, Persephone..." he'd break the silence he'd spent the last quarter of an hour with.

 

[Bunny]

Was it odd how despite blaming Ares for the fate that had befallen her, that Persephone found comfort in his touch? It wasn't even something she sought with awareness. It was almost instinctual, the way she sought comfort in his arms. The fact that she seemed to need his presence was missed on her, though she could feel the slight vibrations of his hands. The cause was unknown but she wiggled closer, as if it would help. Perhaps it could be explained easily. Those who had hurt her had blamed his absence for her pain, for the horrors inflicted upon her flesh. So, with him once more near her, she sought the one thing that would have stopped the pain that plagued her. As long as Ares was close, she would be safe. Was it that simple? No. The layers were complex and tangled together and there was a chance that she couldn't have admitted even to herself the feelings she harbored for him. They had never once been explored and his company had long been taken for granted.

Though evidence lurked with almost every interaction between them as she sought comfort from Ares. The blind groping desire for his nearness, for the comfort that it seemed only Ares could bring. Like as she'd leaned into him and he'd been forced to react quickly to catch her before she tumbled from the bed. She fell against the warmth of his chest, her body vibrating against him as she purred. The smell of his blood was eaten away by his scent and she could feel his breath ruffle the fur of her ears and hair as he told Persephone he had her. The comfort Ares gave her was taken for granted, at least for the moment. Though, likely it wasn't missed by the Doctor as she watched the pair. This was far from the Ares she knew, but she was wise enough to keep such observations to herself.

Around her, conversation happened. The words were not so important, at least not to her. The rumble of his voice was almost like a siren's call to the injured female. She pressed closer still, sheltered by him. His strength manifested as her own. The jostling of his body was minor, but Persephone made a sound of distress as the change of position. The warmth of his breath had left her ears and he'd pulled away, however slight to pin the Doctor with a look, his voice a growl. The plaintive whimper from her seemed to draw him back and he curled around her once more and the sound stopped. Dr. Elizbeth spoke to her, but Persephone paid her no mind, absorbed with the comfort she was getting nestled in Ares' arms. As they sat together, it was easy for her to press the mechanical device against her skin, for a moment, a slow, thready growl left her. The touch had been unwelcome, but when the pain vanished she shifted slightly against Ares, as if unsure. The threatening noise however had ceased.

The sensation of cool gel made her eyes open slowly, but it wasn't Dr. Elizbeth that she looked to, it was Ares. The duality of her eyes found his, holding the golden amber hue for a moment. It was as if for a moment, some of her personality filled her like a liquid filling a cup. The strength of his body moved around her as he was directed to support her arm and she shifted slightly, a flicker in her eyes. The sensation of the nanites was very odd, they touched parts of her that none had ever touched. Silly as it sounded, it felt almost intimate as her mind made it to be. Not sexualized, no, her mind didn't connect the feeling with that. More like little waves of comforting touches, the pain of the repairs of her body no longer felt. Only a pleasant warmth accompanied the touch, like laying beneath the sun or slipping into a warm bath. It warmed her to the very core. After time, she had closed her eyes and with the sweep of dark lashes the personality that had been building vanished. Resting against him, her eyes closed, Persephone breathed in and out, the only motion from the small female for a long time as the nanites worked through her body, tending to the injuries she had sustained.

The pain and physical remnants would be erased, but there was no easy way to undo the psychological trauma that had been inflicted.

The inhibitor was removed and for a moment she flinched. It no longer hurt like it had, but the pain lingered now. Slowly opening her eyes again she looked up at the sound of his voice. The personality, the core of who she was, lingered in her eyes still but Persephone didn't speak right away. There was still resentment towards him, for what had been done to her. Nowhere in her mind was there room for the relief to no longer be in pain or gratitude for the amount of money he had just spent to fix her. It was perhaps cruel to think it was the least he could do after leaving her to the animals of the Cabal. She'd been there for so long, sheltered though she'd never seen them for what they were or just how he kept them in line with his own set of morals, twisted as they were. Comforted still in his arms, Persephone couldn't help but be annoyed at how much. Pulling away from him, she pulled the robe around her tighter. So what if his scent still enveloped her, it was a small guilty pleasure she wasn't able to give up quite yet.

Rather than answer Ares, her eyes flickered to the Doctor. Wary eyes took her in and she swallowed once before whispering. "Thank you.." She'd put her back to Ares as she'd turned to face Doctor Elizabeth, a not so subtle sign of her unhappiness towards him. More than that though, Persephone was unsure what to do with her own feelings towards him. It was so complicated and a part of her, though the pain was gone, wanted to slip back down. Away from the memories, where she was safe. Persephone didn't think Ares would ever be like them, hurt her like they had. She gave him far more credit than that. He'd never touched her, but kept her safe. Her anger was valid, but wrong all at once. Conflicting. He should have known. He should have taken her with him. Should have saved her. She could smell the remnants of his blood now, fresh enough to still scent the air and she could even put the pieces together, but she struggled with the idea that it somehow fixed or made up for what had been done.

Shifting she moved to stand, her body swaying, head swimming. Now that pain and adrenaline were not keeping her on her feet, other issues set in. Persephone had not eaten in days or had much to drink. It had been a silent rebellion and they hadn't cared enough to force her, at least not yet. Her knees buckled as she swayed. There was a real danger of her fall.. Head swimming the first reaction was to seek him out, but she'd gotten up on the other side of the table, wanting space from him and the comfort he'd offered while trying to sort things out...

 

[Vekraihr]

Ares calmly placated Persephone as the cat girl growled at the doctor and his fingers caressed the back of her ears as he softly, sweetly shushed her. It was as if to tell her that he was there and nothing ill would befall her. How she’d curled into him made him smile, wrinkled the corners of his eyes a little as he was all too welcoming of her presence in his arms. Sturdy and protective, he made sure to make her feel as secure as he could while on one knee next to the medical table.

As she looked up to him and into those golden amber hues, they’d warm and smolder as he witnessed the trappings of the girl he adored filling her mismatched eyes while he watched on, enamored. He drank deep of what she offered, keeping his eyes on hers until the moment they closed and shifting his attention to her breathing and the look on her face as she was quickly recovered from the physical remnants of her torment. His fingers absentmindedly traced over her ears, felt their shape and softness, and sifted through her hair to linger on her scalp and softly scratch.

Again, her eyes opened and the warmth of his eyes found hers and he looked at her as she looked up at him. He could see it, the way she resented him wordlessly and his brow pinched together slightly in the center and then further furrowed into frustration when she’d yanked herself away and took her attention from him, putting her back to him. As she glanced up to the doctor, whispering her gratitude, Ares glanced up towards Dr. Elizabeth and his expression shifted towards a stoic firmness that he wore too often. He understood why Persephone was upset with him and how difficult it might be to overcome that and, with that in mind, he tried not to be too unhappy about it.

But, it didn’t mean he had to be happy about it, either.

“You’re very welcome, Persephone. I’m not the only one who you should be thanking, though…” she said as she gestured towards Ares, whose eyes flashed briefly red with anger at the doctor. A rumbling growl had him stand to his feet, followed by a sharp, firm demand, “Don’t tell my kitten what to do.” Somewhere, he appreciated what she was trying to do, but Persephone would have to come to grasp things on her own time. Besides, it wasn’t her place to help things along. This was his penance to pay for not protecting her as well as she’d needed. “Sorry,” muttered Adriana, seeming much more sarcastic than apologetic and she looked pointedly at him as if to drive home her displeasure. Had she not just done him the largest favor he could have asked for, he might have had a mind to punish her for it.

Within himself, he knew he had done the right things but it didn’t change the outcome. It didn’t sit right with him how things had gone and, looking back, he’d have rather exposed her to the brutal savagery of his work rather than see her tortured by ’brothers’ who were all too eager to take advantage of his turned back. It was unbelievably aggravating for him, as he’d never had any sort of doubt in his actions until now. He’d never had to go back through the moments of his life to see if there was anything he could have done to improve an outcome. Persephone had given him the opportunity for a great deal of emotional development, but would it be fruitful?

What if he’d fought harder...What if he’d just taken her with him...What if…?

He couldn’t turn off the cyclical thoughts that had been running marathons in his mind since then. However, there were more important things at hand as Persephone stood and immediately began to sway. She’d gotten up on the opposite side of the table and swooned, her knees buckling as Ares’ instinct overrode the mess in his mind. Without warning, he leapt headfirst across the table and wrapped Persephone in his arms, pulling her into his chest and placing his body between hers and the ground as she’d begun to fall. He’d hit the stone floor with a loud thud, the back of his head slamming down first before the rest of his body fell with hers securely atop.

For a moment, his vision had gone at the edges from the force that he’d struck his head with and the sharp, metallic tang of blood filled the air as the wound briefly gushed before being sealed up by the Convalessence nanites that still worked within his bloodstream. Adriana, who had gasped and reached for Persephone just a moment too late, yelped when Ares struck the floor so severely and immediately scolded, “Just because you have those damn nanites doesn’t mean you’re indestructible!” It wasn’t clear which of the two of them she was talking to as both of them had received the treatment, though she earned another glare from Ares as his brow furrowed. “What do you expect from me? You know I’ve never been one to be concerned with my own well-being,” he shot back with an aggressive defiance, met with a groan from the doctor.

“Well, you damn well should be since you’ve got someone you so obviously care for to protect! You can’t keep her safe if you’re dead!” she’d exclaim with annoyance in her voice and was met with nothing but pensive silence from Ares. She was right, of course, and he glanced down to Persephone and then nodded before looking back up to Adriana. “So, one of the things I hadn’t mentioned is that she’s suffering from dehydration and malnutrition. The nanites will help, but she needs food and water quite badly,” Dr. Elizabeth would tell him as Ares regained his bearings and, while cradling Persephone, sat up from the prone position on his back and then stood while still holding the small girl.

Ares would give Persephone a long look of concern before heaving a deep sigh as he continued to brace her against him. He’d then glance towards Dr. Elizabeth and he’d softly smile with gratitude, “Thank you, Adriana. I can’t overstate how important it was to me for you to get here as quickly as you did.” Dr. Elizabeth would smile softly and nod her head as she looked at him with curiosity behind her violet eyes. She’d known him a couple years now, and he’d never acted like this. He did sound thoroughly gracious as he dropped his focus back towards Persephone. “Well, I need to get dressed and then let’s get you some water, some chamomile tea, and a nice, hearty lamb stew with loads of veggies. Would you like that?” he’d ask her as he began to carry her from the room while Dr. Elizabeth began to tidy away her medical instruments. She hoped, silently, that the sweet, gentle girl he held would help temper that animalistic ferocity he harbored.

 

[Bunny]

The way he looked at her had never been really understood by Persephone. Oh, on some level she understood it, it was the way a man would look at a woman. Yet, they had never been more than friends and at times, that might have been a generous term. Ares had always seemed distant from her and she had understood better once he'd been gone as to why. The rape had not been the only injury inflicted on her. No, the men had made sure to point a firm blame to Ares and explain why they had kept their distance from her. Ares wasn't like a normal man, they had delighted her in telling her of his brutality and fostering a fear in her that she had never had when it had come to the pale haired man with the golden eyes. He wasn't the kindly shadow that she figured was shy or too awkward to approach her. He was a monster. The tales they had told her had made her stomach roll.

Yet, in the cradle of his arms, he looked down at her tenderly. It did nothing but sow confusion. Was Ares this man? Or the former number two and assassin of the Cabal? He couldn't be both, could he? The way he stroked her ears, the gentle pressure of fingers was feather light and comforting. Eyes closed, she leaned into his touch some, savoring it, confusion or not. Comfort after all she had been through, was hard to come by. Persephone wasn't prepared to be picky. So she lingered as he pet her, still working through her own feelings when it came to the complex man holding her. The longer she thought about it, about him, what he did and what had been done to her, the less she could stomach it. She'd pulled away from him and if she'd seen the way his brows had drawn together, it was ignored.

Rather than look at him, speak to him, she'd thanked the doctor who almost immediately earned Ares' ire. The rumbling growl behind her made Persephone flinch and for a moment, the small female seemed to crumple on herself at it. Anger was not something she was great with though, there had been a conflicting set of feelings welling up in her at his words. His Kitten. There was annoyance at the arrogance he thought of her as his. From one master to another? Was that her fate? There was also a flicker of butterflies at the other implication. That he cared for her that greatly. The non verbal conversation after a particularly snarky sorry was missed by Persephone. She'd been debating standing and had decided that sitting she felt okay. So she'd pushed herself to stand away from him... Still annoyed with him.

The world buckled the moment she tried to stand on her own and she could see herself falling almost in slow motion. Suddenly arms were wrapped around her, and her smaller form was pulled tight into warmth, strength and she found her fall changing. Her body was twisted with Ares and the pair changed positions within nanoseconds. She landed on Ares, the sickening thud of his head hitting the shiny tiled floor ringing in her ears. Head on his chest, she lay there a moment, her breathing shaky from the scare. The scent of blood was what jarred Persephone from her shock. Her eyes flickered down to Ares and there was tension in her body as she pushed to sit, though she knew better now than to try and stand, so the sat in his lap. Eyes moved to the doctor and she blushed, lashes lowering. "Sorry," she whispered and Ares answered from beneath her. Ares shifted and she found herself in a different cradle of arms. She wanted to pull away, but she was so tired. Her back pressed to his arm and her head fell to his shoulder, in an almost defeated way as the kind doctor explained the other issues facing Persephone beyond the physical.

Her world swam as he stood and she gave a soft whimper, arms around his neck, as if she could stop the world from spinning by clinging to Ares. Her eyes were strewn closed tightly and she clung a little tighter until the wave of dizziness passed. Then and only then did she open her eyes. He was looking down at her again, after thanking Adriana for coming to his call so quickly. She looked to the doctor and found her watching the pair with a quizzical look in her pretty eyes. Her head still rested against his shoulder when his focus shifted back to her. She started to nod, feeling like a child in his arms, the motion making her eyes close again tightly, the motion setting her world rolling once more. "Yes," she whispered, slowly opening her eyes, as if testing the waters. "Please." The swaying of his body, gentle as it was didn't seem to bother her, so she clung to him as he carried her through his rooms. She thought they might be heading back to his bedroom, but she wasn't sure. The thought didn't scare her. Not now that she was a bit more coherent. Ares had always been near here, often alone. Had he wanted to rape her, he could have many times over. There was no fear from him on that front. No, the fear was around the very thing the doctor would help her temper.

The warmth of her breath curled against his neck as they walked. Her lashes half closed. She fought to keep her eyes open, to stay awake. There had been promises of water, her favorite tea and her favorite food. Ares knew them all. This didn't seem to surprise her. He had been watching over her since her arrival in the Cabal. She might have called him a stalker, but he'd never hidden how he'd watched her. Persephone found herself thinking back to those days, where he was a comforting shadow at her back. She'd never found his presence annoying. When she wanted to talk, he'd talk with her, otherwise he was more than happy to just be around her while she went about her chores. She hadn't really understood it, but that first day he'd been gone she found herself looking for him. That night.. when they'd come for her... She screamed for him.

Shivering she snuggled closer. She could hate him once she was fed. Until then, she would happily use him for his warmth, his scent and his working legs. There was always tomorrow in which to hate Ares. Tonight, she was just too tired. "Sorry," her voice came softly, that same whisper she'd been using since she'd thanked Adriana. "For making you hurt yourself..." He'd hurt himself so she wouldn't get hurt again. It had been sweet and yet it still felt like too little too late to her.

 

[Vekraihr]

As she laid there with her head on his chest for that brief moment, she would hear the smooth, steady heartbeat he had despite the injury he’d just suffered. Ares seemed to not be bothered by the fact that he’d hurt his head, at least not in any lasting way. No, as Persephone glanced down at Ares, all that was written on his face was concern for her. It showed in the way that he tried briefly to cradle her when she tightened to pull away from him. Fortunately, she hadn’t gone far and instead settled into his lap. Ares’ arms wrapped around her, holding her securely as he listened to the doctor.

When she whimpered at him, Ares’ rise slowed a bit and he glanced towards her with a glimmer of worry giving his eyes a slightly more yellow hue and his brow furrowed a little. Then, as she broke eye contact to look at the doctor, Ares began to walk again. Only now he tried to keep from jostling her too much and kept a steady, gentle pace along the smooth, marble floors. “There’s a good girl,” he’d praise her as she responded to him about the food as they left the hall back into the elegant foyer she’d seen before. His feet still squished in the soaked shoes that clicked with each step on the hard floor, echoing in the grand halls of his estate.

This time, they went across the room and to the hall on the left side from the entrance as he walked purposefully. His expression was somewhere between pensive and stoic, as though there was something on his mind that he wasn’t going to discuss at the moment. Her warm breath on his neck, though, proved enough of a distraction to curl a slight smile to one side of his lips.

Ares, at that moment, couldn’t help but wonder how things would have been different had he approached her about the way he felt...Surely, the Cabal wouldn’t have gone against him had he taken her as his girlfriend? There were, of course, certain things within the brotherhood that weren’t to be trifled with. He couldn’t help the burden of guilt that he felt at how the situation played out, no matter how responsible he actually was for it.

And, it didn’t help matters that he didn’t know how to properly process any of what he was feeling.

He was pulled out of his mind as Persephone suddenly pulled herself closer. Ares instinctively held her a little closer, too, as he carried her down to the end of the hall and through a grand pair of double doors made of dark-stained wood trimmed with silver ornamentation. Everything in and around his home seemed to pay homage or complement the Grecian elements of architecture, blending modern sophistication with such a classic, nearly regal appearance.

He’d pause just after the threshold and her soft voice reached him with her apology, making him glance down towards her and he cocked his brow a little. “I’m not sure why you’re apologizing to me...You didn’t do anything wrong, Kitten. I chose to jump to catch you. It’s not necessary to apologize to me for things you had no control over,” he’d respond to her somewhere between caring and scolding, his voice warm but stern as he carried her further into his bedroom. This room, rather than having the marble flooring, had plush black carpeting that stretched from wall to wall.

In the center of the room was a large, four-post, dark wood canopy bed with deep purple and black curtains and a matching bedspread. Beside the bed were two end tables with drawers and each with a dimly lit decorative lamp. The bed was completely laden with his warm, pleasant scent as he softly placed her within it, allowing her an opportunity to take in the rest of her surroundings. A large dresser with a mirror mounted to the wall above it was placed against one wall, with a wardrobe nearby that peeked over a half folded room divider that was black with a deep gray embroidery on it that was barely visible in the dim light. The scene depicted was of an ouroboros surrounding a field of stars. On the wall furthest from the door and the wall adjacent on the left, there were thick black drapes that could be tied with the purple velvet ropes that hung nearby. Currently, though, they were closed and only slight bits of artificial light filtered through the cracks.


Once he’d released her onto the bed, he slowly pulled his arm from her but lingered a moment to give her ears a gentle scratching a moment. "Wait here, okay? I won't be far at all," he'd assure her before taking a step away while his back turned to her and he went to the wardrobe and unfolded the room divider the rest of the way to obscure her view of that side of the room from the bed. His muscular frame hidden from view, he stripped down with the sound of wet clothing piling on top of themselves as he stepped from his slacks and boxers with a relieved sigh.

After he’d undressed, Ares would find something a little more comfortable as he anticipated they wouldn’t be doing too much more this evening. A hooded sweatshirt and a pair of comfortable sweatpants would do just fine, he figured, as he pulled the outfit from his wardrobe and slowly pulled the clothes on. Then, he’d step out from the divider in fresh clothes and he looked a little more pleased, though his eyes still held a maelstrom of emotions within. It didn’t matter tonight, though. What mattered was making sure she was okay.