<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;">At the sudden grasp, her eyes widened, but not all too much from fear. Finally, something interesting was happening. <strong>"The nerves freeze, leaving them numb, and the slightest added pressure causes them to shatter. I'm not who you want to kill.  Try again and I'll leave you begging for mercy."</strong> Oh, she knew more than that. She knew in detail the effects of vasoconstriction and the toll it took upon the brain. That ice could dull and intensity suffering at the same time. So vivid in her mind; veins growing thin and tight, the heart valves slowing. It was fascinating. It was exciting. Her smile was close to a grimace and endlessly demented. "Yes," she hissed beneath her breath, almost inaudibly. True, she didn't necessarily want to die, simply because there was so much left to do. But she couldn't deny that her goblin blood raced at the thought of agony - be it hers or someone else. Masochism was invaluable to the life of a court noble, after all. <br/><br/>Then, it was over, and he was sauntering away, apparently invigorated by his grope for power and control. "Temper, temper, Sir Adham," she called after him, taking a few steps in his path. "I had every intention of getting you a fresh glass. You chose to take the leap of faith, despite knowing what I am. If I were to kill someone tonight, I would hardly target such a charming and noble heart." But his attention was far from her and fixated upon the precious princess. Perhaps a good thing - he was touchy enough to challenge her regardless of Aria's attentions. Given his relative size and strength, he had a good chance to succeeding. Oh well. Her gaze and attention, too, were drawn to the lady. And even in her cold little chest, the stirring was undeniable. Oh, the girl was so beautiful. So aware of her charms, and yet so innocent of what she inflicted upon others. Pain unlike the bite of any blade or chains. As Aria wet lips the shade of arterial blood, her own grip tightened around the poisoned goblet so tight it shattered in her grasp. <br/><br/>She needed a distraction. A dance. Yes, it was a fucking dance, wasn't it? Her eyes searched the crowd for any potential partners, and fixated upon a most curious prospect. When she had only been a child scrummaging for her survival, she had heard tales of his kind. Lewd lecherous beings of old that brought chaos to even the gods. The modern satyrs were far more sophisticated, she had heard, but still blessed with incorrigible mischief. Tossing the broken pieces aside and holding her chilled hand limp, she descended into the crowd, sweeping past the happy couples to approach him. "Hello. You look interesting. Tell me - are those hooves suited for dancing? Or would my time be better spent going off and fucking myself?" Which she had to admit was a tempting alternative.</span>