When Tasha was struck she did not allow herself to let out a cry of pain even as the strength of the vampires backhand nearly made her head twirl, merely grimaced as a part of the cigar ashed momentarily burned part of her face.  This...being dared to insult her old master.  That could not be tolerated and a part of her wished to call upon the blades hidden within their protective wrist sheaths upon this vampire.  But she would not allow spur of the moment emotions control her actions, for it would be unfitting of her or to the memory of Mortius.  But neither could she simply hand over the weapons which were truly the last memento she had from Mortius.   Instead, after taking a moment to collect herself she looked up at her master.  While her body burned with anger, a slow smile appeared on her face as a small trickle of blood began to slide down from her mouth, which her tongue quickly lashed at.<br/><br/><span style="color: Gray">"So...you are telling me that you're <i>afraid</i> of a lesser creature able to hurt you sir?  You insult Master Mortius as weak, yet you worry of the meager power that a lesser servant as I possess?"</span>Tasha was curious if she was pushing her boundaries far further then should be risked.  This was a new master after all, and her life, regardless of her skills, would be treated as expendable at a moments notice. Part of her would have liked nothing more then act the part of a obedient little servant if it sped up the time it would take to find her previous masters killers.  But Tasha could not allow herself to be thrown to a master that had no strength.  She needed to know that the vampire that stood before her was worth her time and ability, whether he deserved to have her as a servant to do with as desired.  More importantly she needed to know whether he could be manipulated.  It was worth a try in her book.<br/><br/>She brought one of her arms up as if to draw the holy weapon hidden in the scabbard.<span style="color: Gray">"You are a vampire, a superior being that should not care a wit over what a lesser creature possess unless that slave tries to use it against their master.  Should a slave do that, they deserve nothing less then a horrendous punishment for daring to strike against they who own them."</span>Her gaze shifted to the still sheathed weapon, a gaze that seemed half crazed, akin to a murderer about to strike down a victim.  That feeling was not far from the truth, and despite the fact the blades had been cleansed time and time again to keep up their potent design, they had drank the blood of innocent and guilty alike.  None were safe from the blades touch if her masters demanded it.  But the blades, in her mind, would not settle for just any prey.  Of course her new master needed to understand this particular need that these blades had.  Or perhaps it was a need Tasha had, but never admitted to herself.<br/><br/><span style="color: Gray">"Besides, these blades do not live to be swapped for their leisure.  They don't appreciate changing hands."</span>She began, rubbing the top of the sheath where the blade hid like petting an animal.<span style="color: Gray">"They only exist to strike down those that dare stand against the council, and only those whose strength is worthy.  I would not waste them on allies of the council ..."</span>She then turned a gaze towards JC, a gaze that could be best described as mocking, along with her tone.<span style="color: Gray">"Or on lesser enemies.  Besides..."</span>She wondered again if she was pushing it too far, but she needed to know.  Needed to understand what kind of master she was now dealing with, and what better way to find out then to push his buttons and be herself, or as much as she could be, all things considered.  But trying to see if she could also wiggle out of it was a worthwhile goal too in figuring out more about the man before her.<br/><br/>She then offered a shrug as she closed her eyes while her tone had also changed to sound almost apologetic.<span style="color: Gray"> "With due respect sir, most vampires can't even hold the sheath, or keep them anywhere on their person  without feeling highly uncomfortable.  I doubt you much want to feel the need to smash them into bitty pieces during the meeting with the High Council.  I would like to request that I be permitted to retain them awhile longer until the proper precautions can be taken in their safe placement.  Sir."</span>She then offered a polite bow.  Tasha hoped that this little act would help with any...disrespectful remarks she may have spoken during her little speech about her blades.  She was also quite hoping that he would allow her to keep them.  They were hers after all, something she had been attached to for as long as she could remember, and she loathed to part with them for any reason.<br/><br/>She then looked over her master and her memories began to play back on previous important meetings that Mortius use to attend.  She knew what to look for in a vampire, what they needed in order to look their best.  They were a little vain that way, but at the same time it was understandable when meeting with those of importance.<span style="color: Gray">"Sir, you do look a little...parched.  Would you like me to bring some refreshments?"</span>She asked innocently, offering a small smile almost seemingly forgetting the fact that she looked ready to stab JC a few dozen times a few moments before.  Or the fact that there was still a trickle of blood on her face.  She wondered if he would take the bait and feed off of her own body, or whether he would surprise her and ask for one of the servants instead.<br/><br/>It would also be at this moment that JC would come to a small conclusion as to why his old acquaintance would treat the girl and raise her the way he did.  Tasha had a remarkable similarity in both look and personality to Mortius' daughter whom died many years ago.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>