moreincommon | 018 ☺ Voice (Private) ☺ Winter, spring, summer or fall, all you have to do is call

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018 ☺ Voice (Private) ☺ Winter, spring, summer or fall, all you have to do is call

Ms. Windrunner,

I'm Mark, your new warden. Do you mind if I call you Sylvanas? I feel like it'd be a good idea for us to talk.

[He's looked at her file, but won't discuss the specifics at all. This is purely a getting-to-know-you chat, they can go into psychoanalysis and their plans later.]

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FleshToast. Do they have it in your world? I have a friend who loves it.

No. [There's definite hostility behind that one word.]

All right. Still, we need to meet and talk, where on board would you be most comfortable?

There is no place on this rust bucket I find comfortable.

Warden conference room, then?

[There's a scoff.

Buar'a sanwy.

[And then she hangs up.]

[Right! Not good enough. If he has to he'll show up right outside her door, knocking on it with crossed arms.]

Lady Sylvanas! Open the door!

[Deja vu. These Wardens were so one note. But she could play the tune just as well.

She ignored him.]

All right. I'll just stay here until you do, then.

Really?

[Her voice came through the door, muffled by there is clearly amusement there.]

I'm certain I can out wait you, Rethore.

Then I guess we'll just have to talk this way.

[He flips open the file and looks over her general history, taking out a pen to make general notes.] Tell me about your family. Your parents and your older and younger siblings. Were any of them Silvermoon rangers too?

[There's a long pause. When she speaks again, the amusement is gone from her voice. Now there's a dangerous quality in her tone.]

My family is none of your business.

We have to discuss some of this. Not that, if you don't want to, but if you just ignore me you won't be any closer to getting out of here.

We can talk through the door or we can talk in private, Lady Sylvanas. It's your choice.

[If he wanted the door open, well he gets his wish.

The door opened fast, and thickly gloved hand shot out, gripped him by his shirtfront and yanked him forcefully into the darkness. She shoved him against the interior wall, an arm across his throat. The only light came from the hallway and the glow of her red eyes.

He was taller than she expected.]

Let's be clear, Rethore. I am not here by choice, therefore, I do not care about your fool's errand of redemption. If you continue to be an annoyance to me, I will swat you like the insect you are.

[Well, at least he has her attention and she's letting him in, so to speak.]

No inmate is here by choice. The fact is, until we can solve a few problems you're going to be held against your will. There's nothing I can do to change that, all I can do is help you get out of here. Threats are not going to stop me from helping you.

I don't need your help, Rethore. [She pressed her arm harder into his throat, purposefully cutting off his air.] And if you insist on getting in my way, I will make you regret it.

The Admiral doesn't seem to think so, and he's the one in charge here.

Baathore. Perhaps I should prove the both of you wrong.

[The pressure on his windpipe increased, and her expression was impassive. She had every intention to choke him to death right then and there.]

[She has every intention to, and she easily can. All he did to dissuade her was flail, and not even the kind of flailing meant to hit people. When the pressure on his throat increases he chokes out a phrase:]

Killing me won't change anything!

[As she'd suspected, her new warden was a weakling. He wasn't even trying to fight back. Pathetic.]

Not this time perhaps. But if I do it enough, maybe it will change your outlook.

Not any time! [But if this conversation is to go further, she'll have to release him and/or wait for him to finish death-tolling.]

[She wasn't about to release him. In fact, she pressed her arm into his throat forcefully to cut off any more of his talk. If he was talking, he was still breathing. And she wanted that to stop, though it would take a few minutes. She had time.]

We'll put that statement to the test then, Warden mine.

[Test away: his patience and loyalty really must be seen to be believed. Strangle away, he'll just... wiggle for awhile.]

[She waits until the wiggling stops, and then a little longer yet. It takes four minutes to choke someone into unconsciousness, and then an additional four for their body to actually shut down into death. Strangling someone while standing up is not for the faint of heart, or those short of patience and upper arm strength.

Once she was certain he had expired, she tossed his body out into the hallway, kicking it clear of her door. She didn't want to be tripping over him if she needed to get by.

And then she went back into her room, and closed the door.]

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018 ☺ Voice (Private) ☺ Winter, spring, summer or fall, all you have to do is call

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