Pache eased her way out through a pair of automatic doors, her eyes taking to the hallway of people. Over time, it had become relatively natural to recognize a pattern for those that wandered each area. The work they did and the people they associated with help to solidify where they would tend to be. She, likewise, was beginning to be able to learn how to read the hierarchy: who was a grunt, who had some authority, and who liked to claim they had authority but got no respect. That sort of thing.

Likewise, it was beginning to appear that some of them were recognizing her. Very few made an effort to remember her name - which was no surprise considering she was certain Zarbon and Dodoria probably still hadn't the slightest clue even though she spent more time with them than everyone else combined thus far.

She brushed her lightly closed fist around her tired eyes, grogginess apparent as she attempted to shake it away and step into the day with a touch more pep.

"Hey, kid!"

She turned then, catching sight of Cheri with Loqua, and the rational one, who she's found they often refer to as Jube. There was another there- a friend of Loqua's, but she hadn't yet made much of an effort to remember his name either.

Cheri lifted her hand, thumbing back down towards the other end of the hall, "We were just about to go grab a bite - you wanna come with?"

Truly, she would have loved to. She couldn't think of what she would enjoy more than deserting her responsibilities and sending Zarbon peaking into high rage in the process. Still, she figured if she was going to break the rules and do whatever she pleased, she should wait until she was certain she could get away with it. She combed her dark nails through her thick, white locks, a subtle smile coming to her face, if only to soften her response. "No, sorry, I can't. I'm needed for something."

"No problem, kid, some other time." Cheri responded so simply and so effortlessly. Pache was expecting that a rejection probably would have gotten her far more offense and negativity, maybe even to the end of one of them picking a fight. Much to her surprise however, even as they left, her heightened senses caught the sound of them laughing to themselves, commenting on just 'how polite' she had responded.

"Heh," It was a bitter half of a laugh that slipped from Pache's lips. This was place was strange and she was still completely out of touch. In fact, the dirty looks and faces of people looking down at her like curb-side trash, that felt more at home than the kindness.

She walked the spans of the halls, her ringed eyes searching the faces of those she caught eye contact with with varying degrees of response and acceptance. It almost gave the impression that none of them would hesitate to reach out and be rid of her, should Frieza spontaneously decide to allow it. That was the feeling that helped her to steel her confidence.

Come the end of the hall's length, she found Zarbon at the end, seeming to be idly discussing a few things with that somewhat intimidating woman from before - Tamarind, she was sure her name was. Not long after Pache was in their sights, however, the woman began to walk away, possibly just leaving Zarbon to it.

Pache tilted her head, making brief eye contact with that woman, and just meeting her eyes forced the white haired alien's tail to reflexively bristle. What a presence.

"There you are," Zarbon huffed, his arms folded as he peered down at the arrival, "It's about time, I was near-ready to send out a search party." Sarcastic, of course, but there appeared to be some truth in how long he was waiting.

He took just a second longer to look over her, especially after the lack of quip in retort on her end, and most 'sympathetically' he remarked, "you look a mess."

Pache's face shifted to dull, her lip poking out dryly, "I didn't sleep."

Fortunately, she wasn't expecting sympathy, because he made no motion to offer it to her. Instead that typical arrogance filtered through his words as he eyes lit with interest, "It's a tad late to be feeling homesick, isn't it?"

Her still bristled tail flared for a time, then hooked back around to quell its erratic, mood-telling movements by wrapping it back tightly in its usual place around her thigh, "I never said that!" She folded her arms, a visible pout along her face, but just as quickly as it began, all fight for an argument left her, "What am I doing now?"

"Hmm," He bit back the beginnings of amusement, deciding it best not to continuously provoke her before such an important evaluation. "Lord Frieza would like a report on your adjustments." He tilted his head up and a wave of exaggerated exasperation crossed his face in tow with a hint of a bemused frown, "Unfortunately he would prefer that you be there for it.. and it seems you're practically under my watch for the time being. It's just as, if not more unpleasant for me, really."

"..." She basked in silence and simply watched his performance whilst they both stepped into the lift, "I don't enjoy your company very much."

"Very good, the feeling is mutual."

There was no need for a briefing following their potentially... 'friendly' banter? There was no demand for certain decorum, nor a comment on how she should have behaved. By this point, it was expected that she knew how to carry herself, but perhaps... just for perhaps, for the moment it occurred to him that he could have been giving her too much credit.

As the floor of the lift rose to peak and locked into the flooring of Frieza's chambers, the two stepped off, and as per routine, bowed in respect to the one that they served.

"My lord," Zarbon addressed with the utmost display of respect, his tone brimming with, as Cheri called it 'strong kiss-up energy', "I've brought Pache, just as you've requested."

"Ahhh," It was a sound of genuine elation, but anyone could tell that the positive undertones masked the deeper underlying twines of darkness lurking under his tone, "Good job, Zarbon." The horned alien turned to face them both, interest piqued. This was the status quo and the standard behavior, but there was something more that he seemed to want to discover here.

His eyes slid sight to Pache, who was sneaking peeks at Zarbon. She noticed the way his expression changed upon receiving praise - he seemed genuine grateful, even if it was such a simple and easy sentiment.

It was like...

'Like he has a hold on them...' She thought to herself, and all the same, she found her eyes wandering back to Frieza to find that she was the object of focus. She immediately snapped to attention, standing with her posture fixed to straight and shoulders back. In all honesty, it seemed so proper that it appeared more stiff and awkward, but that was the least of this overlord's concerns per the moment.

"Do report," He urged, motioning his hand in a nonchalant flick.

"Of course, my lord," Zarbon supplemented, standing back to his full height properly. "She has been properly socialized. She's taking to the layout of the ship, has been made aware of the schedule of operation, and is more than informed of the status quo."

There was a clear and decisive tone to the report that seemed to fall around the realm of 'I've done my job and shouldn't be to blame if she screws up.' Delightful.

"Do you have anything to add to that?" Frieza prompted, now leaning forward from his laxed position.

Pache's tail twitched with alert - oh wait, he was talking to her. She tore her eyes quickly from Zarbon to Frieza, awkwardly wetting her lips as she attempted to find words to say. Certainly Zarbon was screaming in his head that she didn't have to add anything. In fact, it was probably best that she kept her lips button and her hand out of the ordeal, but of course it seemed Pache felt obligated to speak.

The question was... how did she speak? She could always take this opportunity to make things difficult for Zarbon, but standing in front of Frieza, himself, was probably the last place for games. Not to mention, if she played into favor, he would owe her one in the future.

She pressed her lips strongly against one another, squeezing out any potential beginnings of a stammer to save herself the embarrassment, but she came off quickly then with a strong 'm' to begin, "Mmy lord."

The hairs were standing up on the edge of her tail just from making eye contact with him, but using it to strengthen her resolve, she did just that. "I have been given all of the information necessary to carry out all of my responsibilities with the utmost efficiency and devotion."

Simple... yet... articulate. Honestly, Zarbon was surprised - where did she learn how to speak with eloquence? She lacked it on near every previous account.

What was most pleasing about this, however, was that with every word that came so calculatingly from her lips, the approval of Frieza seemed to grow more and more. It had to have been a record - a recruit that they've brought in with such clear animosity now singing his praises with so little trouble and adversity. Truly, after the past couple of weeks he was having, this was a positive twist that he did so enjoy.

"But... I do have a question... if that's alright."

'Ruined.' Zarbon bitterly thought. His eyes had widened considerably, and his lips twitching into a fastened clasp against his clenching teeth. What on Earth gave her the right to do that? It was as if he was setting him up now - putting him on a pedestal and informing Lord Frieza that he had taught her everything, then giving a prime example of the contrary. Should it have been allowed, he would have killed her himself.

He quickly turned to the small tyrant, bowing deeply, as disdained filled his throat in tow with the pride he was forced to swallow, "My deepest apologies," he spoke up quickly, "it seemed some of her lessons in proper respect are still greatly lacking."

The beginnings of a quiet chuckle eased from between Frieza's colored lips, his eyes narrowing in focus. Regardless of how he deeply enjoyed the loyalty and undying devotion of his men, the transition period really was one of the fun parts, wasn't it? "Oh no," He contrarily offered, leaning back comfortably in his seat, "you have my full curiosity now. What are you meaning to ask?"

Zarbon could feel his heart threatening to burst from both his chest and his armor - should she say something stupid or insulting, so help him...

"I've been hearing that there's something I'm supposed to see," She spoke, still with a tone of politeness, yet with an incidental air of plainness, "If I'm allowed to know... what is that?"

'The nerve to speak to Lord Frieza so plainly. Disrespectful.' He opened his mouth to clear his case, but the raising of a palm towards him from his lord immediately silenced any plea to ignore Pache's disgraceful behavior. He fell silent.

"Zarbon, I have need for you."

"My lord," He affirmatively replied, though the sweat accumulating against his face told the tale of his raging nerves.

"Fetch Tamarind," He commanded lightly. He rested his cheek against the back of his hand, a shooing motion with his other, "I've been meaning to speak with her."

"Y-yes, my lord..." Zarbon stammered more out of surprise than nervousness. For what reason did he change the subject... was he being... ejected from the conversation? Or was he meaning to sate his recent stress and bouts of foul moods by wringing it out through a punishment inflicted on Pache. Either way, he was certain the outcome would be less than positive. As he stepped back onto the risen port on the floor, he turned his gaze to Pache with displeasure, and within the moment, he could only see an oblivious look of confusion. Spare the girl, for there was nothing he could do for her now.

Pache felt her breath shallow just a touch. It shouldn't have -as she swore that she didn't like him being around-, but Zarbon as a guide provided her a feeling of safety. As much as he annoyed her, she felt that she had managed to nestle in a pocket of protection with him, and now he was commanded to leave her in the lion's den... and no matter how strong or prominent that protection may have been, he wouldn't be contesting his will against Frieza himself.

Slowly... very slowly... she turned her head back to hesitantly peek at Frieza from behind the shadow of her bangs. Maybe she misspoke... He seemed so willing and Zarbon felt so able that she managed to speak outside of her normal means, but maybe that was regrettable.

Her knees pressed loosely together, knocking against one another subtly as her body began to quiver, just slightly, and within the silence, Frieza merely watched.

In just a few moments, she had devolved from asking whatever she wanted to know, and speaking so familiarly with him, to quivering under the pressure of his presence alone. Wasn't this a sudden development? Perhaps, though it reminded him all the same as when she first arrived. She stared at him with an uninhibited brand of hatred that teemed through her eyes, and even with the offering of his brand of freedom, the adoration and gratefulness did little to smother the brimming flickers of disdain.

"Come now. You're quivering like a frightened rabbit," He prodded, adjusting his seating and once more searching her eyes for a response that betrayed her words and body.

Fear, yes, that was what he expected. Even as she fought against her own instinct and desire for survival to quell her racing heart and pumping blood, her eyes betrayed her with blatant fear. Though that was boring, was it not? What else was there remaining?

"You wanted an answer, did you not?" He continued, and no matter the quiet and peaceable touch his voice took on, his underlying amusement awaited her reply with hints of growing entertainment.

Pache sucked in a shaking breath, even her eyes involuntarily welling at the corners as she forced her voice out through her barely parted teeth, "Y-yes, my... my lord..."

The fostered amusement grew in his chest, his eyes in the process becoming sharper: colder, "Speak up."

Her thin fang pressed into the inside of her cheek, and soon the faint taste of blood filled her mouth.

The sting wrestled her thoughts and shocked her focus, driving her to find a means of articulating properly. She took another shaky breath, glossing her tongue over her lips in nervous habit before managing to utter out in stronger conviction, "Yes, my lord!"

For just the moment, there was a flicker in her shaky eyes, consumed with fear. There was a brief resurgence of frustration and disdain that buried itself just as quickly. It forced his chuckle to evolve sharply to the tune of sincere laughter, stemmed in entertainment and rooted in sadism. Just the sound of it was enough to send Pache's spine stiff and cold with a chilling wave.

He planted his hands against his chest and abdomen, gradually quelling his spell of cackles. "Hah," He breathed simply, even adding the dramatic gesture of wiping a hear with the bridge of his finger, "I would argue that was something I needed."

"You won't kill me?" Pache sputtered out again, her body rocking forward to her toes with shock and anticipation.

"Ah, that's yet to be determined," Well, at least he didn't lie, "but you're spared for the time being." Unlike those he knew, Frieza would love to claim that handling his problems with violence was little of a necessity. Albeit, that was typically because he used more dirty and entertaining tactics - such as manipulation and intimidation, or even just breeding such an unshakable loyalty within his followers, that there was no need for him to lift a finger. In this case, instilling fear came without effort - her talking out was nothing but an amusing anomaly.

Pache came back from her toes and planted firmly on her soles, incidentally choosing to make herself a bit smaller once more. She made him laugh. That should have been a victory, or maybe the true victory was in stepping out of lines and being able to survive. At this point, an answer to her curiosity was the least of her worries, she just wanted to know that she was walking out of this with her life.

"The past few weeks have been so drab," Frieza idly spoke, his typical calm returning as he clicked his claw-like nails against one another. "Being you've given me some entertainment, I'll indulge you."

'Given some time, you will be witnessing a great display of my rule.'

There was a drop in her stomach at the thought, or maybe not the thought, but just the words. She wasn't certain of what that would mean, or how he would decide to display this, but... part of her began to wish that maybe she hadn't asked. It was all that was on her mind as she descended down the lift.

With one unsteady foot off the platform, no time was wasted in further rattling her brain as she was abruptly snatched up by the arm. She was shocked back into reality, and aggressive arch in her spine before the familiar -yet livid- face of Zarbon slowly killed her instinctual defense.

"I'm surprised to see you alive, let alone unharmed," he remarked, hostility and disdain lithe in his tone as he applied so much snatching force that he practically lifted her feet off of the ground.

Pache's brows knit as she snatched back feebly at his grasp, her lips upturning with displeasure, "I am unharmed, so I'd like it if you didn't go snatching me around...!"

"And it's done nothing for your sour tongue," He likewise noted, though chose to unhand her as asked.

The orangey skinned alien rubbed at her arm where his grip felt to linger in pressure despite him having let go. "He wasn't angry," She added simply.

"Lord Frieza's wrath is not what's concerned me," He narrowed his eyes.

"Well I'm alive and well too-"

"And I couldn't care less for your well-being. You're nothing but lucky that he was feeling gracious"

Tamarind interjected with an arm that stretched between the conflict here, her beige-like eyes scanning the both of them. Her expression was ice-cold, and it never seemed to change, even when the situation or her own voice was much more harsh or inflamed. "This is a matter that can be dealt with later," She reminded -mostly Zarbon-, "We shouldn't keep Lord Frieza waiting."

The pale blue skinned male rubbed his fingertips against his temples. This wasn't good for his stress, and stress wasn't good for his complexion. His cold yellow eyes passed one more warning glance with an unspoken intent that read loud and clear 'this isn't over', and with that, he tailed Tamarind onto the lift.

Pache watched the two go, watching as mild conversation seemed to continue well on after the left her be.

Her eyes traced the length of her arm, the visible mark from Zarbon's hand across her skin. She watched as her arm formed an elastic-like texture that filled in the light indentation, erasing all signs that she was ever grabbed in the first place. As much as she wanted to feel angry and defensive, she could only feel strange. He was probably certain that she intentionally forced blame on him for her behavior, and that maybe she was making some sort of play on undermining him to seize favoritism or something.

"But he..." She paused, it was naive to think that anyone here actually looked out for anyone but themselves, wasn't it..?

Pache backed away, running her fingers back into her hair and huffing out a hefty sigh.

She opted for heading back to bed.

A/N: Hey! Two together so quickly! :') I'm proud of myself. Hopefully things are slowly returning to normal. I hope you liked this chapter! Please let me know what you think, because I'm super curious of what you guys think while reading it! I love writing this so far and it's much different than the kind of thing I usually do.

Thank you for all the support on this story! Love you guys!