I kind of fell totally and hopelessly in love with Vriska's Mindfang while writing this. Her character is fantastic. I started writing at 6:20 last night and by 8:00, I was completely done. HUGE SHOCKER. This whole chapter just flowed really well for me (not because I've been imagining this for months now nooooooooo).

Many thanks to TH4TON3GUY, curious potato, Bitblondetoday, Toaneo07 Ver2.0, and one guest for your reviews to the last chapter!

Marquise Spinneret Mindfang

Well, this was a bit of a problem.

She genuinely had not expected that Neophyte Redglare would actually be able to apprehend her. She'd underestimated the legislacerator. Her mistake.

She wouldn't make that mistake again.

Vriska had been furious when Redglare's lusus had blinded her seven-pupiled eye, destroying her vision eightfold. It had been agonizing—hell, it still was. Her eye burned like she had salt in it, but she couldn't blink it out. And then the fucking dragon had ripped her fucking arm off. She hadn't really been in a position to fight back after that and had been able to be captured, but her foul mood had been tempered slightly by the news that there would be lowbloods present at her sentencing. Her mind began racing almost immediately, a plan coming together, and after Redglare had bound up the bleeding socket where her arm had been, Vriska came along relatively quietly.

Still, she wished she hadn't told Eridan to go. He could have actually helped her out against Redglare. Maybe, with his help, she might not have been captured—or lost her eye and arm. She had an idea for a new arm, but as for her eye, there was no hope. The all-seeing cueball was useless to her now. Nothing could bring back her vision eightfold, the last thing that had truly marked her as Aranea's sister, and that was the lone thought that made her want to bury her face in her remaining hand and cry.

Soaring through the air had caused a whole new set of problems. She'd never flown before and while she was no longer susceptible to seasickness, airsickness was apparently a different story. It took her nearly an hour to get used to flying, squeezing the sides of Redglare's lusus with her knees and reluctantly gripping the legislacerator's leg to keep her balance. Eventually, though, she realized that Redglare wasn't about to let her fall and she relaxed slightly. Good. She didn't know how long it would be until they landed wherever it was they were supposed to land (and how Redglare knew where they were going was beyond Vriska—she'd seen the bright-red eyes behind those red glasses and realized that Redglare herself was blind), but the longer it was, the better. Vriska already had a plan almost fully formulated, but it would take a bit more refining, especially what happened after she managed to escape. His Honorable Tyranny wouldn't be taken down easily, but if she could disarm Redglare before she escaped, she might have a chance.

She counted herself lucky, at least, that Redglare's beast of a lusus had taken her left arm and not her right arm. Even though Eridan was left-handed (she'd fought against him enough now to realize he was more comfortable with his sword in his left hand), she wasn't, and she wondered where she would be if she had to learn to fight left-handed. She could have asked Eridan for help, she supposed, but the thought of asking that sea-dwelling douche-fin for anything made her sick. He was her kismesis—she couldn't expose a flicker of vulnerability to him.

She must have dozed off at some point, because when she woke up, it was to her stomach rising in her throat as they descended. She blinked at the rapidly-approaching ground and braced herself for impact, but Redglare's lusus slowed the closer they got until she was beating her wings a few feet off the ground and gently descending. She barely had a chance to catch her breath before Redglare was sliding from the dragon's back and tugging Vriska with her. She stumbled as she fell, but the legislacerator's grip was stronger than she expected, and she managed to keep her feet beneath her.

"What's the rush, Redglare?" she asked tauntingly. "You really want to cull me that fast?"

"The sooner you're out of my hair, the better," Redglare answered.

"Don't I even get a last meal or something? I thought all condemned prisoners had that."

The legislacerator snorted as though Vriska had told a riotously funny joke. "Not a chance, Mindfang. If you wanted a last meal, you should have eaten on the Blackweb."

I will get back to you, I promise, Vriska thought. She'd never been so far from her ship in her life, and she hated it. She already missed the gentle rocking and soothing sounds of waves beating against the side, the feel of the worn wooden decks beneath her bare feet as she dueled with Dualscar, the smell of the sea on him, in the air, permeating into every space of the ship. Nothing will keep me away.

Redglare pulled her along, and Vriska tried to brush her bangs back from her eyes and wondered why she couldn't until she remembered that her arm was gone, that was why her shoulder throbbed and ached—she'd managed to forget for a few moments. True, she felt off-balance, but she found herself listing unconsciously to the left to compensate. I need to get a new arm soon. Darkleer's brother The Engineer would be able to make one for her—of that, she had no doubts. Aranea had told her about both of them, Darkleer and The Engineer both. Darkleer was impossibly proud of his younger brother and his mechanical skills, so Vriska made a mental note to drop by and see The Engineer as soon as she had escaped.

She tried to engage Redglare in more witty banter, but the legislacerator was having none of it. Fine, she thought sourly. Not that it matters, but you'd make a shitty kismesis. She was grateful that Eridan, at least, had an appreciation for wordplay as well as swordplay.

Would he hear about her capture? Would he worry about her? Would he think her dead for sure? She hoped he'd worry but she also hoped he wouldn't be stupid enough to try to rescue her. Redglare had already hinted that the highbloods were after him as well, and the last thing she needed was for him to get captured too and for her to have to rescue him. Then again, he knew her well enough by now. She could take care of herself. She wouldn't be culled so easily.

Redglare stopped in front of a portal and cast a quick glance at Vriska. "I hope you've made your peace, Mindfang. This is the end of the line."

Spare me. "Whatever you say, Redglare."

The legislacerator narrowed her eyes and pushed open the portal, shoving Vriska ahead of her into the courtblock. As Redglare had told her earlier, it was packed, jammed to bursting, with lowbloods from the peasantry to practically olive-bloods and everywhere in between. Salvation. She relaxed even as she strode across the block (without Redglare pushing her along, thank you very much) to the gallows erected in the middle. A single noose hung from the wooden beam, and Vriska ascended the stairs until she stood a foot or so behind the trap-portal under the rope.

The lowbloods jeered when they saw her, but she barely registered the sound. To her, it was cheering. It was redemption. It was freedom. You love these lowbloods, Redglare, but you have no idea that you've ensured my freedom.

Redglare positioned herself in front of the gallows and held up her hands for silence. "Brothers and sisters," she started, raising her voice to allow it to carry into the farthest reaches of the block, "I bring you the pirate Marquise Spinneret Mindfang!"

The lowbloods erupted into jeering again, a solid wall of sound that had Vriska smirking in spite of herself. She'd let Redglare have her fun for a few moments longer. Besides, this was almost starting to sound like something from The Signless—she'd only been to one of his sermons, in secret of course, and while she had blood that wouldn't be mistaken for anything other than blue, she couldn't help but agree with him. After all, her power could have been considered a mutation.

She just considered it useful, though. Especially right now.

"You all know what she's accused of doing! She culled every person of her lowblooded crew and left them to rot on a beach! She replaced them as easy as changing her garments! She finds you replaceable, faceless, less than people! But you decide for yourselves! Is she guilty or innocent!"

The crowd booed loudly, and Vriska knew it to be a verdict of guilty. That's enough of that. Unseen to Redglare, she pressed the fingers of her remaining hand to her temple and closed her eyes.

Lowbloods, hear me. I am not your enemy. Neophyte Redglare is the one you must execute. Do it. Now.

Rumbling echoed in her ears, and when she opened her eyes, the lowbloods were scrambling out of their seats and rushing toward the gallows. Redglare turned to face Vriska and grinned. "See, Mindfang? They crave your blood. They won't let your deeds go unpunished."

Vriska grinned right back. "Oh? You're certain of that?"

Redglare furrowed her brows and tilted her head to the side, but a moment later, her expression shifted into a mixture of confusion and terror as a swarm of lowbloods grabbed her and began dragging the legislacerator toward the noose, the very noose that had been intended for Mindfang. "What the f—no! Let me go!" she screamed.

Her plea went unheeded, though. A pair of lowbloods pulled the noose down over Redglare's head and around her neck, and her sightless eyes widened as she fully realized what was going to happen. She tried to wriggle out of her captors' grips, but under Vriska's mind control, all of the lowbloods had been imbued with greater strength than normal. There was no way she'd be able to escape, especially after they finished tying her hands behind her back. "Mindfang, stop this immediately! I know you're controlling them—free them!"

"Oh, I plan to," Vriska said lightly. She approached Redglare, the lowbloods parting to let her pass, and she deftly slid Redglare's sword from its cane holster. She waved it to test the balance and frowned slightly. It was lighter than she was used to, but it was better than escaping unarmed. She tucked it into her belt and put her hand on her hip. "They're just going to free me first." She glanced at the lowblood nearest the lever for the trap-portal and nodded. He obeyed her unspoken command and pulled the lever.

The trap-portal dropped. Redglare screamed, but only for a moment. Her voice was cut off by a sickening crack as her neck snapped. Vriska waited for a few seconds, just watching Neophyte Redglare hanging there, swinging slightly as her momentum stopped.

Sorry, Redglare. Nothing personal. I just couldn't let it be me hanging from that rope. Vriska headed toward the portal, keeping her control over the warmbloods strong as she went. She couldn't afford to relinquish her control just yet, not when they would have no problem with cutting Redglare down and fashioning a new noose just for her if they got a chance. She couldn't let that happen—and if she hurried, she might be able to avoid encountering His Honorable Tyranny.

She slammed the portal behind her and finally let go of the lowblooded minds. Even with the wall between her and them, she could hear a few of them screaming as they came back to their senses and realized what they'd done. Better her than me.

She looked right and then left down the hallway, praying it would be deserted, but no such luck. Apparently, she was going to have to more than earn her freedom—there was His Honorable Tyranny striding toward her.

More beast than troll, he wouldn't know what exactly had transpired in that courtblock, but he'd probably have a pretty good idea since she was no longer accompanied by Redglare. So be it. I haven't had a good fight in ages. Not even her battle with Redglare had been to her usual standards.

He lunged toward her, bellowing wordlessly. She remained motionless until the last possible moment and spun out of the way, whirled around, and plunged Redglare's sword into his back between his shoulder blades. He let out a howl of pain and turned; Vriska managed to grab the sword out of his back just in time and came back to the ready. His Honorable Tyranny's black blood dripped nearly to the hilt of the sword, but Vriska had seen more than her share of blood in her life to be fazed by it.

His claws bared, he charged at her again, and this time when she stabbed, she aimed for his throat. His size was a disadvantage in the close quarters of the hallway since she was able to squeeze in close to stab at him. He howled again, his arms flailing, and Vriska withdrew the sword and stabbed again and again and again...

She lost count of how many times she shoved the steel into his neck and torso, her exhilarated cries punctuating every thrust, but she finally stopped when his blood flowed to her elbow and he sank slowly to his knees, twitching. Finally, he fell onto his back and just lay there, his eyes wide and empty. Dead.

She pulled the sword out again and tucked it back into her belt. She brushed her hair out of her eyes again, panting heavily and heedless of the blood covering her hand. Her energy was fading rapidly—she had to get out of here fast. She wouldn't be able to fight off a swarm of legislacerators or anyone who tried to stop her.

She hurried out as quickly as she could, sprinting for the cover of the nature assemblage before Redglare's lusus could see her. She had to move fast, come up with a plan. More than that, though, she had to figure out how to get to The Engineer's hive from here.

The sooner she got a new arm, the better.

And hopefully, the next time The Grand Highblood sent someone to apprehend her, she'd send someone actually up to the task.

So I changed my username on the site... "L. Alex Greene" is going to be my pen name if I get anything actually published in the real world, so all y'all motherfuckers know right away if I wrote something.

Body count: 4. Three more chapters until the next character death!