The empty siren song of revenge failed to stop after she brought down the dragon; instead, the song transformed from a lullaby to base-heavy club shit. Having dragged the golden eastern back to the Pitt, she took the liberty of peaking inside his mind and securing his legs with expertly tied rope and tight chains. He had the liberty of being tortured inside her personal temple, dressed with gold and water fountains -- a lavish display, given their location in the wastes.

Stepping back to look at the setup, she tested the restraints another time before deciding it was time to proceed. As for waking him up, though -- she took out one of her sharpened scalpels, kept from her erudite days, and levitated it with telekinesis over his closest clawed paw. Surgically precise and taking her sweet time, she attempted to dislodge a few of his golden scales from him. If that didn't wake the dragon, well, she could keep escalating.

[member=2039]bai shi.[/member]

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Her golden eyes watched them, almost lazily, as the golden dragon violently roused from slumber. Carefully inspecting the dripping silver blood, she took a curious sniff before bottling it in a freshly cleaned vial. The lioness saw a few creatures with odd-colored blood – but silver? She thought she might be able to cheat a few idiotic merchants with this. Her right ear flicked as he growled and informed her the scales going dull; a dull click sounded from her tongue. “What a pity. They grow dull, just as you do in the Rosebloods; unlike your leader, I do not have arbitrary reasons for my violence,” she sated, carefully levitating the scales and vial into a glass jar off to the side.

“Your leader called for tortures and deaths in the name of his imaginary gods – you know this, and you stood by. Let it happen, willfully doing nothing,” she coldly told him, her golden eyes refusing to look at his face. Instead, she turned back to his leg and started the work of attempting to carefully remove another small batch of scales. “I suppose to you and him they are all nameless, aren’t they? But one of your precious Rosebloods captured me, tortured me, killed me. I was a medic back then, you know – but your Vagabond did not care, and your Sephorith knows. I think he feels proud of making me a sacrifice to his fake little gods.” Ninazu did not believe in senseless violence; every cut and every burst of her flame had a point. And it showed in her torture methods.

The flames within her mane flared, growing hotter and larger as she continued to wretch scales free – adding them to a levitating collection hovering behind her as she worked. “What do you have to say to someone that bore the consequences of your leader’s insanity?” she dispassionately asked, finally looking to his wretched face with blazing eyes.

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Bai Shi’s words failed to truly surprise her, though the lioness felt a little disappointed. Sighing, she placed the removed scales in the jar – the words coming out of that muzzle hardly sounded different from what she would expect from a cult member. But she supposed the man ran his group as one. “You’re not very smart, are you? If I were trying to persuade you to join the Pitt, would I have started with plucking out your scales?” she drily retorted back at him, But something in there struck a nerve – perhaps the word choice of humorous – and she decided to accelerate some aspect of her torture.

She’d weaken his mind with pain before diving in; well, that was a bit of a lie. Ninazu could dive in now – could have done so when he was unconscious – but she enjoyed playing with her food too much. Even in the Pitt, she rarely allowed herself to act on her sadistic impulses due to their damn irrationality. But with this vengeful capture that convinced themselves to be Sephorith’s yes man bitch, the ardent was willing to act a tad more reckless than usual.

Fire swirled around the scalpel, heating it until the blade glowed with the heat. “You talk about him as if he’s rational, but would a rational leader proclaim himself a god?” she questioned, slowly lowering the blade onto the exposed flesh. She went to remove the scales on his arm for the convenience – appendages often were the quickest way to cut directly to the bone without risking a severe injury in the process (such as the ribs) and she wasn’t willing to let him die before she finished with him. If successful, she’d try to sink the blade until it cut into the bone, and then drag it down through the exposed patch of flesh. In all honesty, she felt similar to that time when a friend challenged her to perfectly eat a chicken wing – but only allowed to touch it with one of her knives.

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Watching the flesh bleed and burn, the ardent nevertheless caught the sound of agony -- her right ear twitched, and she knew she found the right method to crush him. Yanking the blade out of his skin, she twirled the red-hot metal in the air while looking across the golden scales for another target. "You think you can rescue him? You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved," Ninazu told the beast, claws tapping against the stone floor of her temple.

"If you try to change him, he will only hurt you -- perhaps by striking you, beating you. Or by throwing you away like garbage," she continued, suddenly attempting to shove the glowing blade into his shoulder, dragging it across and through the bone to make for a horrific scar later. "You're so in love with the idealized him that's in your head, it's pathetic. You can't even see what a monster he really is -- I could pity you, I really could... but why would I, when it's this entertaining to hear you defend his disgusting ways?"

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