Beatrice
Hynes carefully stripped strands of silk like tender beef from a small delicacy in her hand. Though 'delicacy' was rather forgiving, given half of the meat had tenderised whilst the majority had been burnt charcoal black. The lady once more had her jaw freed, her expression with a mild disgust and disappointment, un doubly at the lack of cookery.

She then turned after hearing the wriggling and squirming of the now conscious Conway, her lips overturned and her face masked by that malevolent helmet. Upon looking clearer, it was moulded to that of the shape of a skull, with protruding wings on either end. It was honestly disturbing had it been painted in a bone white. She gestured, still skewering chunks of meat onto her dagger like appendages.

'I really would not suggest trying anything. Also don't move your head, I bounded your mouth near the tree for a reason. If you attempt to cast a spell or run you'll slice your throat on a blade one finger tip below your neck.

She said all this with an unenthusiastic woe, as if she was forced to recite a scripted greeting like any other store clerk or restaurant maid who was forced to work overtime. She'd cross her leg over her thig, stiff as the movement was with the armour, and held her chin up leaning against her knee.

'I remember you offering a drink before even addressing my name or surrounding yours. I understand chivalry maybe dead in some cultures, but I expected you a finer gentlemen, noble boy.'
Marie
*As soon as he heard there was a knife he stopped moving his head. Already he, could feel blood trickle down his neck from where the blade nicked him already from moving his head. He opened his head and looked at her, his eye speaking enough on how he felt in the moment. Now closer he could see in better detail of the helm of this reaper. The artist that forged it must have been quite skilled to have captured the shape of fear in an object. He would speak but his gag prevented him from such actions at the moment.*

*She could see his demeanor change as he realized the situation he was truly in. He had been caught, and escape would probably mean death. She could see as the despair and anger washed down his face as he accepted his fate. Despair, because he would now be returning to his father. Back to life of a living doll or an assassin doing his father's bidding. Anger, cause this was his fault. He had been foolish enough to get caught. That damned letter that he asked for.*

*But there was nothing he could do now. If he struggled he would die. Honestly he was considering, that option more and more as seconds passed. Maybe he could be reborn as a child of a different lord? Maybe he would return in a different time? To a different world. A different life where wasn't the slave to the man he called father.*
Beatrice
The fanged devil stood, her eyes fixated on his as the masked face bore a piercing glare, as if to penetrate his skin and reap into his mind. The brown fair skinned elf, who stood several heads her own height was writhing at her mercy. Having been forced to look straight ahead, his eye would eventually loose track of Hynes as she disappeared into view below his neck. 

'You know, It is rather rude to loose eye contact when somebody. . . Asks you a question. You wasted my time, so I will waste some of yours. You force me to chase you. . . I'll force you to chase a means of "Escape".'
 
She spoke ironically, as if to mock his bound tongue playfully knowing there is no possibility in fulfilling her request. Conway then felt the smooth cold metal of one of her fingers slowly perk across his neck, tracing upwards where a gash had formed upon him initially bracing the stake aimed at his throat. It wrapped around his mouth ravishing his lips, before slowly lowering the gag across his mouth. His teeth then bit the metal, as Hynes slowly coiled her metal gauntlet between his lip, and with a gentle tug, forced his head to tilt downwards - the edge of the blade now truly kissing his wetted throat. Her soulless eye moulding then met his own, with a miniscule slit he could just barely make out an image of moonlight.

'That's better boy, I expected better manners from a claimed son of noble. Now, tell me . . . What *Was* Your name. And - also, do you really want to live?'

The glittering shining gem inside her helmet was now apparent, an iris, clear and silver grey like the moon itself. It could have perhaps been captivating, had his attention not been staggered by the now growing cut on his throat. It was merely a surface skin wound, however a scar would nevertheless form across. The metallic taste then left his mouth as Hynes cupped his chin, gesturing him to speak, the cloth gag thankfully falling across his mouth and resting as a blanket between his skin and the blade.
Marie
*Conway followed her with his eyes, locking his gaze with hers as she appeared in his line of sight. He could feel her metal fingers touch his skin, tracing up to the area where he had been cute already. But he didn't flinch, he remained perfectly still. His neck burned from the pain of the cut, but he pushed the idea of pain from his mind. Ironically, his father had had him trained to to be operational despite significant amounts of pain. So he was able to keep his eyes on her even as she manhandled his jaw, forcing him to look at her directly. Now the blade was digging into his skin, but he was still yet to react.* 

*He worked his jaw for a moment as he looked her in the eye, that single silver coin that he could see resting within her helm. And if she was really looking into his eyes, Hynes would see fear. She would see a fire, a aging defiance that refused to back down. Conway felt no fear in this moment. He searched his mind and heart and could not find a trace of the emotion within him. Besides, what could she do to him that his father hadn't already.*

*He took a breath,* "My name is Conway Bain Afolabi. Do your worst. Death will always be the better alternative to bondage. One way or another, I will be free from that man." *He leaned his head back, against the trunk of the tree, closing his eyes. This time when he closed them he didn't brace himself. He seemed relaxed and he was. He had been on the run for months and was just tired. And he figured he had put up a good fight. So if this was how he was ten then so be it.*
Beatrice
A frenzied grin grew on Hynes, clearly she had been sadistically enjoying the anguish that Conway had been feeling. Particularly as she pierced into his eyes and was met with the capitulation of ultimate fear. Perhaps it served her ego, perhaps her ego was long ago separated, and she merely was fulfilling some perverted sense of pleasure. Regardless, she was *Hungry* For it. Hungry for the wave of despair which punctured his heart to the tree. However there was more, perhaps a defensive mechanism which aimed to cease the weakness from devouring his mind. A certain resistance in his kindled eyes which resonated, though weakly, to the hell-fired inferno that had once been scorched her own.

He then spoke of death being an alternative release, which made her cringe at the thought. *Conway*, it was unfamiliar, yet not at all too surprising. In sincerity, she wished to light the flame ablaze in his heart, make it race, throb and trash until death. She wanted to see him fight till the last, be it out of his desire to attain freedom or his desire to strike at her. She'd hold the tip of her dagger under his neck, forcing him to recoil back further, as much as once might physically articulate. She then clawed the blade from his neck at ease, her gauntlet simply squeezing it in between her hand as she held it to her side. Once more she rested her knife like finger upon his left eyebrow, carving a small scar from the base to his cheek as she gestured for him to gaze upon her once more. Her devilish movements, so slow yet so invasive, carving his flesh in a single movement, as if she was playing a game.

'Do you know the difference of a hungry fisherman and a well fed one?'
Marie
*Here was the problem, when she looked Conway in the eyes, she didn't see fear. As she placed the knife beneath his throat, he didn't recoil. At this point he had, fully accepted whatever she would do to him. It occurred to him in the small fleeting moment that he had been conscious that, his life had never been his own. He had spent most of it acting as a doll and pawn in someone else game. His father using him as a tool to obtain more power in the political game within the Silnarian Empire. The only moment where his life had been his own had been when he was on the run. Unable to make friends, to settle down in a community, or to find a cause or a flag that he could trust. He realized that a lot of his life had been stolen. His chance of find love, continuing his family line, raising his own children, all thing he would never see if he was to die here. But that was okay, he had enjoyed the small amount of freedom he had.* 

*His thoughts had been interrupted as the woman began to rake the claw of her gauntlet down his face. His jaw clenching as the new pain raked through his head. Blood began to pour from the wound, blinding his left eye for the moment. He did as he was told, looking up at her. Now he could feel something. A new emotion that was swelling from within him. Hate, not for her directly. But in general. He just hated that how he was forced to endure this because of the disgusting greed of a single pathetic old man. The emotion was strong enough for Conway to change his mind. He would not die here. He would live and hunt his father, killing him. But in order to do that, Conway needed to be stronger, so much stronger.* "What is the difference?" *There was venom in his words, as she see that fire grow brighter.*
Beatrice
'Both fisherman still search for fish. Yet only the hungry one eats his catch. The well fed fisherman doesn't need the food. *So she lets them back into the waters.* So, why does the well fed one even still bother?'

Like a distant star, a passing stranger, or the last burning remnant of coal fire still trying to devour the air to lit itself once more, Hynes could feel the change in wind. When his eyes met hers she could feel the growing anguish, the torment which had been kept locked away deep in the recesses of that man's heart. It wasn't in his nature to posses such things, such unbridled hatred, such lust for life. Hynes' devilish grin now shun in full gleam, as her canines made themselves abundant, lubricated with the miasma of poisonous blood.

'*She* Bothers because **She likes it**, not because she needs to.*'

The vampire now tearing into his flesh threatened his life once more, with a sly movement pressing her the wetted blade across his blood stained cheek. Turning away from him, her grin faded into a sinister growl, her hangs beading with ferocious hunger as her head bent down toward his feet. Blade in hand, he could then witness a sudden twirl of her wrist, sending the blade plummeting toward his head.

**GNASH!**

Conway would feel himself drop, his former arms suspending him on the branch now cut loose at the tope, the blade etched to the tree with a deep engraving. Hynes stood watching, observing his movements and waiting for his sudden reaction. She then confronted him with words, laced with her tongue and once more keeping him in suspense with her abstract lecture.

'But if the fish has no desire to swim, then surely it would simply be merciful I kill it out of the water?'