As the haze began to clear itself from her head, Bast sat up straighter and smoothed her hands down across the linen of her costume. It was dirty and torn, but the gesture was a comfort, a way of attempting to reclaim some degree of normalcy to a day that had moved far beyond such. But Dr. Destruction's way of handling them didn't precisely continue the sensation. Hissing and glaring as she fell, it was clear that Bast's instinctive reaction to the nature of the evil doctor's 'persuasion' had been one of pure rage. She couldn't quite prevent the first, vivid thought, as much emotive as telepathic, "Damn you!"<br/><br/>It was followed immediately by a sweeter if not perhaps gentler mental tone, "Melodramatics such as this are unnecessary. I'm no idiot. You're the best game in town, so of<strong>course</strong>I'll join one of your cells."<br/><br/>And then she prayed the cuffs would release in time for her to complete a spell on the fly...