The Flayer made a small staticky sound of disapproval at Jemma's sudden recovery, but didn't make a point of attempting to torture Blaire further.  The woman had made up her mind anyway, so the test had not been a total waste of time.  Before leaving the cell he turned to stare back at Blaire, a movement that was almost serpentine in the way it twisted his crooked spine and shoulders.<br/><br/><em>"I fear your sense of camaraderie is woefully naive in this place, Miss Blaire.  Had you failed to give me the girl and she had not proven so willing to go with me, I would have simply left your door open.  I fear the other prisoners are not nearly so compassionate as you.  Your moral victory would have ended with all three of you used until you were nothing more than sobbing pieces of meat.  You would do well to think more practically in the future."</em><br/><br/>With that he strode off, cloak flaring behind him.  He placed his hand on Jemma's shoulder and guided her off at his side.  The eyes of the other prisoners wandered after her, no doubt trying to imagine what awful fate awaited the girl at the hands of the dreaded Beast of Crematoria.  His hold on her was surprisingly gentle though, which was no doubt a small comfort after being manhandled so many times in the past hour.<br/><br/>After navigating a labyrinth of hallways, passing through several security gates guarded by well-armed Enforcers, and traveling up an elevator for what seemed like at least a mile, Flayer had led Jemma to a sterile white room with a table and two chairs at its center, one on either side.  The walls buzzed annoyingly, lit by unseen florescent bulbs just behind the surfaces.  He graciously pulled one out for her before stalking to the opposite side and sitting down himself.  His spine arched, as it was wont to do, as he rested his arms on the tabletop and steepled his fingers just in front of his mouthpiece.<br/><br/><em>"Comfortable?  Good.  Now...  Miss Jemma, is it?  I must declare, it is a terribly rare thing for people imprisoned here to speak to me directly with such harsh tones.  I fear that you have me at a loss.  That must be corrected."</em><br/><br/>After a brief pause he continued, eyes roving over her face carefully.<em>"It is often said that first impressions mean everything when it comes to our perceptions of the world around us and the people in it.  So I wish to ask you a question.  Though you have already declared me to be many unkind things; what do you think of me, Miss Jemma?"</em>