Is Cupid Green?
Chapter 4
He asked for it…
Grumbling a few oaths at her current "master", Anna leaned over the tub and scrubbed off the white suit. It was tough, durable, but light, and glossy like an insect's wing. She'd go far enough to say that the blasted stuff was shiny, except that if he heard her saying that he'd probably kill her. He'd already had a firm "talk" about making spaghetti. He would not eat it, nor would he tolerate the smell lingering in his apartment, and finally, she was not to cook it. Well... she could, but that would only occur if she wanted her head cut from her shoulders. He'd then described just how a well-delivered decapitation swing went, before going over in gory detail exactly what he'd do to her body if he ever caught her looking sideways at a tomato.
Of all the threats he had made, that one felt the most sincere -- and the most terrifying. She had hastened to throw out all the tomatoes in his kitchen and he'd watched and smirked, before going into one of those little offices he was so fond of. He closed the door on her, not even bothering to fiddle with the lock. After all, who was she? She was an unarmed no one who wouldn't dare attack him.
So instead, Anna took her frustration out on the suit, scrubbing it so hard that it was a damned miracle it hadn't ripped yet.
"Whine?"
"Tell me, Noishe, is it wrong to imagine someone else in this suit's place getting dunked and rubbed against this damned metal washboard for a few hours?"
"Bark!"
"I'll take that as a no."
Anna wiped at her face, she was clean -- cleaner than she had been in the cells below. After taking one look at her, Kratos had curled his lips in disgust, ordered the fawning dog away from her ankle, and told the guards to escort her to his quarters. His first words to her had been to clean up, and to not take an hour doing so, he'd then laid out the few laws for her to follow.
Fancy long-tailed words aside, it was the same as all the others had been.
Do as I say, don't ask questions, and do it right.
The only improvement from her old situation was that he wasn't starving her and he was allowing her to keep clean.
While a Goddess sent all on its own, she sometimes wished that she wasn't getting all this preferential treatment and that she was back in the Yard. At least there she had someone to talk to. At least there things had made a little sense and there was a feeling of hope that she might escape. Here in the heart of the base, surrounded with Desians several stories above the ground, she could not feel hope. Here all hope died as odds piled against you and you could see them piling.
"Damn it." Anna threw the half-cleaned shirt in the red stained water, she blinked a few times at the specks of soap that had gotten in her eyes and were making them tear up.
"Whine?" Noishe rested his small head on her knee and Anna smiled.
"I'm fine. Noshy, don't worry about me."
"Whine…" He gently nuzzled her leg, then reared up on his small forepaws and stretched himself out as tall as he could get. On impulse, she lowered her head and he gently licked her chin.
Smiling Anna gently petted that silken furred creature. Noishe didn't seem to care that her hands were wet, and in that he was more generous than anyone else she'd ever met before. So long as he was pet from time to time, he was happy to listen and endure anything.
"I'm guessing he just petted you right and you just started following him around…" Anna chuckled, scratching the green tuft between his long fluffy ears.
He only looked up at her, licking her once, before leaving Anna to her work. If he hadn't been so small, or perhaps he if he hadn't been an animal, she might have recognized the determined stride and determined glint in the small "dog's" eyes.
X
"WHIIINEE!" Small claws scratched at his door.
Setting aside the book he was reading in order to burn away the long hours of the day, Kratos frowned, rolling off the bed that was neither soft nor hard; it was nothing, as most of the world was nothing and nothing did not touch him. Going to the keypad, Kratos tapped in a quick numeric sequence and the door slid open. Noishe looked up at him even as he looked down at the small puppy-shaped creature. Those dark brown eyes that were darker then a starless sky with a hint of steel in their depths were full of fury. The dog's tiny teeth were bared in an angry snarl. Considering how small the Protozoan was in his current incarnation, the display of rage was… well... Kratos had never thought of using the word "cute" before to describe anything. Until now, that is.
Perhaps there was a first for everything, then.
"Whine whine bark BARK!"
Kratos felt his shoulders wanting to shake, he felt his lips twitching, and it was damned hard to not start laughing in Noishe's face.
"Do you need to go for your walk?"
The green tuft head shook from left to right.
"Then why bother me?"
"Since he's your dog," the host body's voice snapped from the bathing room, "it might be that he wants some attention!"
"Ms. Anna, shut up and do your work," he snapped.
His keen ears head her muttered word of "bastard", before sounds of sloppy sounding splashes and the hiss of fabric brushing against washboard met his ears. That was what told him his clothes were being scrubbed. He could have left her with a modern magi-tech device that did all the work, but the goal was to give her as little time for herself as possible. Time gave people the opportunity to plan, to think -- the less of that she had, the easier time he had in dealing with her. If she tried to escape, she would be captured, beaten and raped several times. If she lived more than an hour or made it down to the ground floor alive, he'd have been surprised, because if the guards didn't catch her, the security devices would kill her. Not to mention the last idea he wanted her to get was for her to try to assassinate him. It was not that he had problems killing women warriors, or even crazed civilians, but Noishe had grown attached to the host body. It had taken weeks of Noishe wandering around the human ranches before the Protozoan had finally picked someone -- and going through those lines of sullen, hateful, or the worst yet: empty eyes, was not something he wanted to go through again. He held the door open and the small creature padded in. It took a bit of time, considering how small those legs were. The second Noishe was in, Kratos closed the door and went back to the bed that he kept more for Noishe's benefit then his own.
"I owe you an apology, Noishe. I've been researching, and you know how I am when I get caught up in something."
The Protozoan's only response was a squeaky growl.
Again, Kratos was fighting the urge to chuckle at that noise. Still he would not hurt his oldest friend's feelings by scorning the Protozoan's current form. That didn't rule out some well placed teasing however.
"Really, Noishe --" Kratos stared down into those sulky eyes " -- if you're going to be angry with me, wait until you are somewhat larger then a field mouse."
"Whine!"
"I apologize, you are a little larger. At least wait until you are on par with say… a cat in size before you have these fits of yours."
"Bark!"
Hmm... not exactly the good-humored bark he was used to hearing. Obviously, something was bothering the Protozoan deeply, as it was normally Kratos who was in a vile mood.
"Well, it's not like you can talk, so, pray tell are you going to play charades until I guess what's wrong?"
"Snarl!"
"I don't deserve that!" Kratos snapped. "Don't you dare bare those fangs at me, Noishe!"
Not only did Noishe bared his fangs, but also bit Kratos on the ankle. Checking the urge to kick the small animal shaped being off, Kratos snatched the Protozoan by the midsection and carried him to the door.
"I feel like a parent…" Kratos snapped to the small creature. "And so like a parent I will banish you from my room and presence until you are in a more civil mood."
"Bark!"
If there could be someway to insert a "fine" note in that squeaky voice, Noishe had found a way to do so. Before he was banished to spend he rest of his day with the host body, Noishe snaked his head around and bit his thumb, giving the man a rather vile glance. For such small teeth, they sank in deeply and... they hurt. Cursing, Kratos dropped the Protozoan who very wisely gave the Seraph's feet a wide berth.
"Usta brashav! Skeli genials kavak!" Kratos brought the digit to his mouth and sucked on the blood that had gathered in the small lacerations.
Unfazed by an insult that would have brought both Yuan and Mithos to arms, Noishe swished his tail behind him; the motions weren't all too dissimilar to someone wiggling their butt at him - this did not please Kratos in the least.
"If you were an Aeros, I'd clip your wings for that you…"
"Noishe, lunch time!"
"You're getting off now…" Kratos hissed, his black eyes filled with anger. "But only for now. I don't know what in Efreet's Hellfire your problem is…" Kratos tapped in the code then pulled open the door. "But whatever it is, it does not give you permission to draw my blood."
"Snarl…"
It sounded like a squeak -- a mouse could have made a more threatening sound -- but rimmed with red around his snout, Noishe had proven himself to be more dangerous then any creature that Kratos had ever known. It had been the first time in what felt to be forever, since someone had drawn his blood. He slammed the door to the Protozoan's back, and going back to his book and he opened it to the exact page he had been before being interrupted. All of this was done with no fumbling or even scanning. He left a streak of red the second his finger came in contact with the page. Kratos blinked.
How long had it been since he last bled? It was when the assassin's blade had plunged into his side, and Martel had literally held him back from death's door with her mana and sheer will. It had been four thousand years ago, four hundred lifetimes, since he had last bled. He'd endured Noishe's attempts at preening his hair, had felt those hand sized talons over his shoulders for almost four millennia, and none of that had drawn blood. But now, for whatever reasons they might have, the Gods had made him bleed this day under the millimeter long teeth of a Protozoan.
"I cannot bleed, no mortal hand may draw my blood…" Kratos muttered, running his fingers together, his mind turning to the string of promises Mithos had made so long ago when he'd accepted the Cruxis crystal. Kratos had consumed the purified Aionis, and had taken the tainted Aionis and white quartz injections. Five hours after all that, he had been immersed in enough mana to kill anyone else with. Kratos had embraced immortality, shedding the weakness of his human heritage, and becoming one of the "four" Seraphim in less than quarter of a day.
In mute defiance of Mithos' words -- in defiance of Mithos' promise -- a bead of crimson widened past the lines of the cut and dripped down, staining the pure white glove red.