An Aggrievous Exchange

[Shula Brighton]

"Never thought that I'd get to meet the devil. Never thought I meet him face to face. Heard that he always worked alone, that he never wrote or used the phone. So I walked right up to meet him at his place."

Shallow yet steady breathing slowly became more erratic as they lead into a small cough and a gasp that tried to bring the much-needed air into Shula's lungs as she began to come to. The world was fuzzy and spinning for a long moment, making her clench her fists as she waited for the vertigo to subside. A soft noise escaped her lips as Shula took in a slightly deeper breath, coughing yet again. Her body ached everywhere, and her ribs were screaming, her last dose of pain meds long vanquished from her system. It feels like... There's a hundred bees... buzzing in my head... She lifted her hand slowly to her temple as her eyes opened a little more. The noises were so strange, and so were the smells. And then she remembered; she wasn't in the safety of the military hospital anymore.

The sounds of things in cages nearby filled her ears, as did the hum of too-bright artificial lights. Shula squinted her eyes shut a moment as she let herself adjust. There was a large hanging light above her, and a very organized-looking desk nearby. She sat up a little more, relieved to feel the plastic tubing still present on her her cheeks. On the bright side, she wasn't dead yet, at least, unless Hell came with medical supplies. Shula looked around her at the exam chair she seemed to be sitting in in the center of the room, immediately curling into herself a bit. Though she wasn't strapped to it at all, the fact that there were straps on it made her stomach knot. What confused her most was that she was alone.

"Hello," Shula said softly, hating that even with the air supply she was still too breathless to yell. "Is anybody here?"

[Raistlin Ambros]

With a faint creak, the bolted metal door on the opposite end of the room swung open, a figure garbed in a standard white medical lab coat that covered his pitch black military uniform. With blood red eyes, he glared at the Ishvallan woman in the chair, a placid look upon his cold face, devoid of any detectable emotion as usual. Shutting the door behind him, which echoed throughout the morose, drab gray room. He made his way across the room, striding past the various vials, beakers, and medical instruments that adorned his desks, shelves, and walls, his full focus upon the ailing woman who stat upon a chair normally used to strap down the less than willing 'patients' of his. The soft tapping echo of his boots against the metal plated floor was all that broke the silence, aside from the ominous cry of some unknown entity elsewhere within the underground laboratory. Surely, this was a scene straight out of a science fiction horror story, the depraved scientist, with cold pitiless eyes, prepared to perform unbelievable experiments, torturous in nature, to his frightened captive, who there would never be any freedom for, her life now being his. This was partially true. Raistlin almost smirked at this thought, as his plan fell together. Her life would be his to decide, a master of her fate, however he should determine it to be.

"Miss Brighton" he stated, far from a warm greeting, it was more as if he was only noting his acknowledgment of her presence. "I take it there was no unfavourable incidents in your transportation. Good. It would be unfortunate if I had to cause any unneccesary harm to you" said he, with cold indifference, as if killing her would be no more of a delight as it would be saddening. Truly the callous one, she was nothing more than an instrument. But now that it was so, instruments had to be cared for, allow them to break and they may be hard to replace.

Without another word, Raistlin approached the breathless woman, as she suffered in her own weakness, her human frailty. Such a pathetic state, it was shameful to think that just years ago, he was no different from her, cursed to a body so brittle and weak. In his own way, Raistlin held some sympathy for the girl. Her weakness was not her own fault, she was innocent of it. Those with the health she did not have would move on to leave their pointless existence without her, only caring for themselves, unable to truly appreciate what they had that she could not. Well, now she would be granted life again, her existence given new meaning. She would be saved from a decrepit, purposeless life. She should be grateful for her new fate, for she would become exceptional, above those who would have thought her to be inferior for reasons beyond her control.

"Turn around and undress,down to the waist, I need to access your bare body in order for my alterations to your conditions and genetic composition. If you cooperate, then I can assure you that you will not feel a thing, and as promised, your health will be returned, and you will be liberated from your abysmal suffering" he commanded coolly, his red gaze meeting hers, as he slid a white glove off of his left hand, revealing a transmutation circle drawn in permanent on his palm. It was still the same hand that had belonged to an Amestrian from the time they had just met, perhaps a former friend or acquaintance of hers. Not that it mattered to Raistlin, it had already been altered to fit his own physique, it was no different from his natural arm.

[Shula Brighton]

The sound of boots echoing against metal caught Shula's attention as she fought to curl into herself further, the tiny woman doing alll she could to swallow her fear. She was somewhere in Aerugo, alone, and with no way to call for help from anyone; this morning when she'd last seen Spade he'd deduced she was going to die. If she never came back she'd have simply vanished to die alone somewhere... Going into a panic would on exascerbate her issue and kill her faster. Shula bit her lower lips slightly, trying to steady her breath as she turned to look at the man approaching her. It seemed curious at first that he was still wearing his uniform, but stranger still that he wore a medical coat. Then again this was a laboratory, and he had somehow screwed with her body to speed things up internally. It wouldn't be a far stretch to assume he was some kind of doctor, even though he'd clearly never taken the Hippocratic Oath or held it to his own standards at all.

"Miss Brighton... I take it there was no unfavourable incidents in your transportation. Good. It would be unfortunate if I had to cause any unneccesary harm to you" Nodding slowly, Shula instinctivley clutched her can of precious air a little tighter as though it were a lifeline; she wouldn't dare raise it against Raistlin, but at the moment it was the only thing familiar to her and remotely safe. For a moment she thought to return the greeting now that she new his name thanks to Akiha, but then thought better of it; this man wasn't interested in conversation. He wouldn't care about who she was or the things in life she wanted; his cold gaze and inflectionless tone seemed to tell her vast amounts about how little he actually did care that she was there. She meant nothing, and she new it. And that realization frightened her.

Red eyes looked up at Raistlin as he seemed to assess her for a moment, doing her best to quell her terror. Though she knew it would never happen, part of Shula really did wish to open her eyes and be back in the hospital and that all of this were only a dream. Or even better wake up and it magically be a few weeks ago before everthing went mad. "Turn around and undress, down to the waist, I need to access your bare body in order for my alterations to your conditions and genetic composition. If you cooperate, then I can assure you that you will not feel a thing, and as promised, your health will be returned, and you will be liberated from your abysmal suffering" Shula's eyes widened as her body stiffened. Undress? She clung to the oxygen tighter as though it would shield her and act as a barrier. The array on his palm was clear to her, even though she couldn't understand it. But... Couldn't she just lift up her shirt to expose her stomach, or en just offer one of her bare arms? They were attached to her body!

I... don't really have much of a choice, do I? If I die here and now, nobody will come looking for me. Slowly Shula scooted toward the edge of her seat, putting the small oxygen tank down on the floor with a hollow metallic klunk! as she looked back up at Raistlin uncertainly. Truly if he'd wanted her, by now it wouldn't have mattered anymore. But even all her years in the hospitals had left her feeling more than shy about exposing herself (not that hospital gowns were really much consolation), and being ordered to undress partially now was far from her comfort zones. But you came here willingly to see if he would save you... So you're really past the point of no return, Bright Eyes. If you just start refusing, you won't go home ever. She stood, panting slightly as she took the cannula off from her face and braced herself against the chair for stability.

"And you promise... you'll make it stop?" He'd already given his word, but someimes words alone could only ease so much. She closed her eyes as she turned away from him, moving her hands behind her back and up under her shirt, undoing her bra's clasp single-handedly without removing the fabric above it. Shula winced, hissing slightly at the strain against the stitches on her side, the broken ribs beneath the x-shaped wound aching. Pausing again, she glanced over her shoulder at Raistlin as her hands crossed to grip the edges of her t-shirt, not yet pulling it up. "Just... please. I come here untouched. Let me leave that way as well." Though she was shaking slightly, Shula turned her gaze back to the front and began to pull the shirt up and over her head, biting back a soft yelp from the motions. Her back was now fully exposed, the ridges of her spine starting to poke out more than what was healthy, as were the bottom edges of her ribs. She'd lost any real will or ability to eat weeks ago, and after this weeks hell had all but refused food. Shula's shirt still clung to her shoulders and was held firmly in place over her chest to prevent any exposure. She coughed softly, keeping her eyes foxues on the chair's seat in front of her. "Is this enough?"

[Raistlin Ambros]

Raistlin stood in utter silence, studying his patient's awkward movements as she struggled to her feet. The way her body trembled weakly as she stood there, it was obvious that she was not too far from death's embrace in her current condition. Though that was expected, all according to plan.

"And you promise... you'll make it stop?" said she with a certain hesitation, tainted with fear and uncertainty. Raistlin replied with a simple nod, his chilling gaze still transfixed on her. He promised nothing, promises were meaningless, only one's actions mattered, but he would let her fall into a false since of insecurity, as a promise still had its use as tool to lull people into trusting you.

Raistlin did not remove his eyes from Shula's figure as she turned her back to him, nor when she reached under the back of her shirt to undo her brassiere with a hiss of pain. He watched this with nothing but with the detached interest of a scientist. To him, this woman was just a test subject and a human tool, to harbor any feelings, both sentimental or physical for her, was complete idiocy. Shula gripped her shirt with unsteady hesitation, before glancing over her shoulder, her blood red eyes, filled with anxiety and doubt, meeting his own, reflective of nothing, but far from hollow. She spoke again, voicing her overbearing uncertainty over the situation.

"Just... please. I come here untouched. Let me leave that way as well."

Was that it? That is what she was worried about? How petty, to think that he would go through all the trouble of this transaction for something as pathetic as mindless physical pleasure. "I assure you, Miss Brighton, I would never dream of such pointless acts of lechery." replied Raistlin with the expected cold and apathetic manner. Had he not been mindful of her fearful state, he might have replied with a snide remark on her shortsightedness, and how she should worry about much more grievous possibilities.

The response he did give seemed to be enough to push her fears to the side and allow her the will to lift her shirt over her head, though she did hold back from taking it off entirely, and it clung to her chest, leaving only her back and waist exposed. Let her have her sense of decency, this was all the access he needed anyway. "Is this enough?" asked she, with a light cough, her eyes still fixed ahead at the chair she leaned over, perhaps too nervous to turn to face him in her semi-naked state. "Yes" replied Raistlin in a clear, but hushed voice, as he concentrated on her flesh, studying the surface intently. She seemed to have sustained quite a few injuries, scars, stitched wounds, probably even more complications underneath the skin. He hardly care how she got them though, all that mattered was understanding their nature. "Don't move" warned the dark haired man as he placed his bare palm against the bare skin of her back. He could feel the rigid boniness of her spine. Her body really was at its end, though it was obvious that she was only aiding her unhealthy condition with self inflicted undernourishment.

The brilliant red sparks of energy began to emanate from Raistlin hand, the universal sign of alchemical or alkahestric energy at work. The crimson energy danced across his hand and radiated across Shula's body, spreading with alarming speed, but with no pain on Shula's part, other than an expected tingling feeling. As was necessary, he closed his eyes and carefully analyzed her present condition, carefully feeling out and visualizing even the most minute details of her body. For several minutes this perpetuated, this lengthy process of meticulous assessment, his concentration absolute, focused on every aspect of her body, from the rhythmic beat of her weakening heart, to her unsteady and painful breathing, to the slowly healing wounds, primarily around her limbs . It was, however, very necessary for the modifications that were to be made to her system. Then slowly, subtly, his energy transitioned to the next step of the process, and with eyes still closed to visualize his work, Raistlin activated his contortion array on his palm. With amazing detail, he pictured it, the living tissue in her body, near her heart, as he simultaneously 'felt' it. After numbing her nerves in the area, cutting off any ability to feel pain, the surface of the tissue began to change. Such was the nature of contortion. With careful precision, a symbol was slowly engraved into the surface of the tissue deep within her body, mere millimeters away from her beating heart. Slowly, just as he pictured it in his mind, the internal flesh began to take the shape of a five point array, nearly identical to the principle array used in alkahestry. Though it looked as if an invisible force carved this shallow symbol into the flesh, it was actually tissue itself, that changed its shape. The second the lines of the array were connected, the entire circle began to shine with a new energy, once more, red in colour, a visual trait that was common to all of Raistlin's techniques. However, this new energy, emanating deep with Shula's body, was not his own, but her's. It was a clever system that Raistlin had invented years before, and perfected over time. This seal was his ability, purification, and it was integrated and calibrated to match her body's system perfectly. Like a new and natural function, it fed off of small amounts of Shula's alchemical energy, spreading it throughout her body, purifying the harmful impurities that corrupted her cells. It was like a second immune system, completely passive, working on its own. Even with its location being within her body, not upon the surface, the energy visibly reacted across her skin as it corrected the malformed and dying cells that littered her corpse of her body. As her cells healed, Raistlin continued with his dubious plans, and carved yet another transmutation circle in Shula's inner flesh, this one just below the other, and quite altered in appearance, though it used the same basic shapes. This was the array of contortion, the one he wore on his left palm. This array would only be activated on his own command with his own energy, his reason for placing it her was so that he could activate it from a range using the dragon's pulse ability of Alkahestry. To conclude his work, Raistlin then shifted his focus to her damaged lung tissue and the wounds around her ribs. The cells making up the lungs were already mostly dead, beyond repair, it would seem. Her condition really was a dangerous one, wasn't it. Dead tissue was beyond saving, reviving the dead was beyond Raistlin's powers.....for now. For the moment, all he could do was cut off the pain reception on the nerves around her lungs, and he went ahead and did the same for her physical wounds as well. It would be best for now, to continue to foster her sense of relief and security.

Raistlin pulled his hand from Shula's back and stepped away, opening his blood red eyes to look upon his patient. There was no obvious change in her appearance. One might assume that nothing at all had happened, but that would be far from the truth. Miss Brighton was now cured of her disease. Further more, as long as the array he had drawn within her body remained intact, she was completely immune to diseases and toxins of all natures, for it would continue to purify all the cells throughout her body and prevent corruption and contamination as needed. Of course, he would never tell her the exact nature of the transmutation circles placed within her, nor what or where they were, they were meant to be both a tool to keep her fit, alive, and in optimal condition to carry out his orders, and as another check placed upon her to keep her in line and in his grasp.

Silently, Raistlin turned away from the young girl and began towards an exit that led to a short corridor filled with doors on either side. In order to fix the damage to her lungs, he was going to have to use an outside source of living organic matter to replace the dead tissue. "Hold still Miss Brighton" said he, as he opened the door to exit the room. "Your procedure is not yet finished."

[Shula Brighton]

Brown skin was exposed to the laboratory air and prickled into a slight goose-flesh, the cool, dank air and her own nervousness giving her the chills. Shula clutched the shirt to her chest tightly with one hand and held herself steady against the side of the chair with the other. Apart from the pain, she was tired. She was SO damn tired. Even though she knew she just woke up from the sedatives, pain and psychological fatigue were wearing heavily on her. No, Bright Eyes. You promised... Don't close your eyes, especially not here. You have to make it back. Raistlin's palm was warm against her skin, and Shula did her best to not flinch instinctively as he touched her. He might have been a doctor, but he certainly wasn't her doctor. She gasped faintly as a warm, electric tingling spread rapidky through her body, catching her off guard. It was strange, but at least not uncomfortable or very unpleasant; more like her arm had fallen asleep and the feeling was through her upper body.

She didn't dare disturb Raistlin and ask what he was doing. She could feel things... going on, somewhere inside. It didn't hurt at all, but was more like a pushing and pulling, dull and deep, far beyond the reach of anyone's ability to manipulate externally. Well, apparently almost anyone. Shula bit her lower lip, trying to remain as relaxed as she could under the circumstances and gripped the side of the chair tightly. It seemed strange to her that he was going to all this trouble; bringing her to the brink of death knowing she would come, and then doing whatever he was doing now to undo it. She was an officer, yes, but she certainly wasn't someone with a lot of power at her disposal. Her CO, Colonel Pearlstien, had died in the explosions. Given their panicked state Shula wasn't sure what would happen with her department; at this point she wasn't even sure what their numbers were anymore, let along where they would all need to be put. In all reality she was just a glorified secretary.

Keeping herself distracted wasn't easy when all she wanted to do was know what he was doing to her, why and what he wanted. He didn't seem the type to just do this for the sake of seeing if he could; given that this was a lab and smelled of chemicals and death, he probably had test victims of his own somewhere. He wanted something from Amestris; that much was easy to figure out. But what? The whole country was in ruins. They had no money or supplies that Aerugo could benefit from. She breathed out again, trying to shut her racing thoughts up before they sent her into a panic. Recipes. Poetry. Something. Anything. Acra's face flashed into her mind like a light. Acra... Shula's eyes misted slightly. She hadn't said goodbye to him before she vanished. Spade had figured out she was dying and that conversaton nearly broke her heart; the idea of telling Acra she was to be no more was unbearable. They know I'm gone by now... I wonder if Spade told you, Acra. Did he tell you that you'd never see me again? That those kisses on my forehead would be the last you'd ever give me? A thin stream of pain pushed past her eyelashes and rolled off her cheek. She hated that up until now she'd taken him for granted and just assued he'd always be there at her side through everything. Even the missions they had both done separately had never left her wondering if she'd go back to HQ and he'd be there or not, because she had always known he would be. They'd return, go for drinks, and laugh about whatever was weirdest on their latest misadventures. In the hospital he promised he wouldn't leave her side again... And now she was the one who was gone. But now that she was beyond where anyone could save or comfort her, she was realizing that without him nearby there was a longing that she'd nevr really noticed or could explain. Acra, please... I'm alive. I'll come home, I promise, so please... Wait for me.

The quiet was unsettling, but she knew better than to pull away or try to talk to him. The man's eyes and words were so cold that they might as well have been poisoned icicles, and she'd just rather get things over with and go home. Her shallow breaths came in and out, knuckles white on the chair as she almost began to wonder if Raistlin was doing anything at all. There was the slight pressure and tingling, but other than that? Nothing. But then, relief came and nearly caused her to fall forward. The pain in her lungs was ebbing, even though her breaths couldn't deepen any, and the burning, throbbing ache in her ribs and side subsided as well. For a moment, Shula's grip loosened as a relieved yet shallow sigh escaped her lips. Her broken ribs, damaged muscles and stitched side no longer hurt. "Thank you," she breathed, the words coming out before she had even realized she had spoken. She did mean them, though, terrified as she was.

As Raistlin's hand pulled away, Shula opened her eyes. She didn't feel any different, no
really. So what was.. "Hold still Miss Brighton, your procedure is not yet finished." There was more to do? But he hadn't even explained what he had been doing! Shula bit her lip lightly, leaning more against the chair's side tiredly. Her breathing was still shallow, but her chest felt... weird. Heavy and numb, though she herself was beginning to feel restless. Was it just because she wanted out of the lab, or what he'd done to her, whatever it was? "Do you want me.. to remain standing?" Raistlin was walking away and into another little room, and Shula wasn't sure if her breathy voice had been heard but decided to not repeat herself lest she annoy the man.

[Raistlin Ambros]

Trivial words of thanks and pointless questions were ignored and the phlegmatic man vanished behind the drab steel door, which shut with a heavy clank. Now separated by a steel wall, Raistlin moved further away from the timid little Ishvallan woman and towards a particularly large and airtight steel door further down the cold, gray corridor. With a jerk of the bar shaped handle, the door creaked open, letting loose a blast of frigid air and the lulling sound of a running refrigerator device. Into the freezer room he delved, passing various steel and plastic containers and assorted boxes. At the back of this chilled room, there waited a collection of jar like containers, each filled with oddly coloured liquid, each with a floating chunk of flesh floating inside in a stasis. Hearts, kidneys, livers, and of course, lungs, all of them altered to survive an indefinite stasis, each waiting quietly for their new owner. Carefully taking a large jar with a single, grotesque lung inside. It swished around in its light red preservative liquid as Raistlin briskly exited the freezer room and returned to his lab down the corridor, pushing the door open with a firm push, entering the large operation room, returning to his patient, whom was still hunched over the restraint chair.

Silently, Raistlin approached the girl, removing the cover off of the container in his hand and reached within to seize the dormant organ. "Remain still" he commanded, knowing that the girl might panic if she were to see what he was about to do.

Red sparks of energy enveloped his ungloved hand and the lung it grasped, as the circle of contortion, the Alkahestry that played god, was activated once more. Slowly, the darkly coloured organ was lifted towards Shula's bare back, and it began to visibly shift and move, as it were returning to life as Frankenstein's monster. It touched her back, it began to move violently, and then, to anyone's horror but the practitioner of this science, it began to meld into her flesh, slowly, her body accepted the offering forced upon in, and devoured greedily. Then the visualization began, and Raistlin shut his eyes in complete rumination, engulfed in his veil of silence. The room became eerily quiet, only the distinct sound of alchemy's energy at work, which illuminated the room around them, was heard, that, and the unsettling sound of flesh twisting and contorting to his will, a sound that seemed quite unholy. It was nothing strange to the man known as 'Flesh eater' among those few who knew of and respected his work, and the same people who feared him.

It was a more complex process, this task, as he had to take control of Shula's systems, nerves, and bodily functions in order to make it work. Cells and tissue were assimilated into the girl's body and carried over to the respiratory system, all the organic matter broken up into individual cells that passed through her body in paths opened up for them, until the all converged in the decayed lungs. Then, drawn to their respective roles within the specific organ, the cells all congregated into their specific areas they specialized in, nothing needed to be converted, which made the process easier for the doctor and safer for the patient. Slowly, the walls of the lungs were rebuilt and revitalized, as the dead tissue was broken up and then dissolved by Shula's own body, a sort of natural process made unnatural and possible by Raistlin's will, a will that Shula's body had no choice but to submit to. He was truly the master of her life now, anything could come under his control if he willed it, all but her mind and soul belonged to him.

Visualizations still vivid in his mind, the procedure was finally completed. The final result: a pair of perfectly functioning lungs, all of the new cells altered to be no different than what was best suited for her body, it was as if her lungs were never damaged to begin with. The operation was a complete success. Raistlin's blood red eyes opened and took in the sight of his perfect work. Shula Brighton was now perfectly healthy, her body was mended to near perfection, other than the wounds she sustained around her ribs and other places. He could have mended those as well, but they were likely to cause question from whatever doctors she might see in Amestris. They would heal on their own, so fixing them was not necessary anyhow, but nevertheless, they would heal faster thanks to Raistlin's directed influence, as he directed the body's focus on the wounds and altered them slightly in order to promote a desirable healing process. She was his informant, his accomplice now, and her health was a concern to him as long as she was useful. She may have been just another officer in the military, but she was easy to control, and he saw great promise within her. And as with all pawns, with direction and instruction, she could become a more valuable piece if he were to guide her to the other end of the board. Soon, he would have all the information and resources he needed from the Alchemistic nation. In time........

"You are partially healed now" Raistlin stated coolly as he backed away from his patient and turned to a set of papers that were laid neatly out on his work bench in the center of the room. He continued as he scribbled a few notes here and there, all to be archived later, "I say partially because, as easily as I granted you your life, I can relieve you of it should you fail to meet your end of our contract." A pause.....Raistlin stared at the papers before him, concentrating on nothing in particular, rather, he processed a stream of thoughts one what to do next with this woman. She was terribly malnourished, he would have to take care of that first. He could have gathered up the necessary elements to instill sustenance and nutrients into her system, but it was far easier to do things the natural way. Without even turning to face her, the dark haired man turned around and calmly approached a door, a different one than he had exited through before, that led to yet another short corridor. "Follow me" he ordered coldly, opening the door with a push, leaving it wide open for her to follow. Without taking time to look back and see if she was even behind him, Raistlin walked briskly down the dark hallway, past several unlabeled doors, each leading to some obscure room that only he knew of. It was useless to label doors in a facility that only he used. Nobody ever sat foot in this underground building other than Akiha and himself. Or rather, those that did certainly never came here of their own will, and they certainly never returned to the surface.

Reaching another steel door, identical to all the rest, Raistlin reached toward a number pad on the side and punched in a series of numbers until the lock responded by lighting up a green display light on top of the security box. The lock undid itself, and he pulled the door open softly. What waited inside this room was like nothing else in the entire laboratory.

It looked almost like a small apartment, though the floors were concrete and the walls were grey. To one side on the side of the room near the door, there was a kitchen, complete with a stove and refrigerator against the wall, sided by clean, white surfaced counters covered neatly in various cooking instruments and kitchen appliances, with plain looking white set of overhead cabinets. A few steps away from the kitchen area was a metal dining room table, accompanied by only a few chairs of similar make, and further towards the back of the room was a small single person bed that rested alongside the wall, made up neatly with plain black blankets and white sheets. Other than a metal cabinet that held his clothes near his bed, and another door near the back that led to a bathroom, this living space was pretty much bare, as it only held basic necessities and nothing else.

Removing his white lab coat and hanging it on a small hook near the door, Raistlin immediately tended to the kitchen area, dragging a a few pots, bowls, and cups out of the cupboard. He then retrieved a mug from the cabinet and filled it green tea from a specialized covered heating pan on the stove. It was still warm from when he had made it earlier. Setting it down on the metal dining table, Raistlin shot Shula quick glance. "Sit down and wait for me to finish cooking" Raistlin stated apathetically, not really giving much attention to the woman, his voice lacking in any grievous tones, but still farm from friendly. If anything, it was cold and neutral in nature, not matter what the situation. He then turned back to his kitchen space and proceeded to fill one of the pots with rice and began washing it in the sink, rinsing it until clean, after which, he set it on the stove to boil. With the quick efficiency and multitasking ability of a precise nature, he set about taking on a variety of tasks to create the meal, retrieving various ingredients from the fridge and cabinets, filling another pot with a dashi broth and letting it heat on the stove, dicing up a cube of tofu and a few green onions, mixing a miso paste with water in a cup, heating a small sauce pan of vinegar and seasoning, heating another sauce pan of soy sauce, sugar, and honey, producing a set of thawed boneless chicken breasts from the fridge, which he quickly cut up into neat and even pieces and then also set on the stove, which, had six burners, rather than a conventional four.

Time passed, perhaps thirty minutes, and Raistlin did not stop for a moment, meticulously tending to his food as it cooked, as the several separate ingredients and processes came together to form dishes. During the entire session, not a word was spoken, only the sound of the gas oven and the clattering of various utensils and cooking ware gave life to the drab room.

Finally, a two dishes were set in front of Shula. A bowl of Aerugese rice with strips of chicken soaked in a sweet sauce covering one side, a pair of wooden chopsticks resting across the edge of the bowl. The other dish, was a bowl of miso soup, consisting of steaming, cloudy yellow-brown broth, diced green onions and tofu cubes floating contently in the mix. Finally, without asking, Raistlin refilled Shula's mug to the near top again, ignoring how much she managed to drink. "Eat" Raistlin commanded, as if it were such a simple and trivial manner. To him, it truly was just that, she was malnourished, she needed food, he provided it, now she would eat. There was nothing more to it than that. The man clad in black finally returned to the kitchen counter, where another, identical meal to Shula's was laid out for himself. Quietly, he lifted the bowl of rice and yakitori, and began to eat as he leaned against the counter's edge. He discreetly glanced up to his guest, to confirm that she was indeed eating her meal. He was in no mood to force feed her. But there more than just interest in her health. A secret ingredient was added to her soup, a clear and nearly tasteless solution containing cyanide. Normally, such a compound would impair the cells of the one who ingested it, making them unable to take in oxygen. However, when Shula drank it, Raistlin was confident that under the Alkahestrical system he integrated into her body, she would be completely unharmed, leaving her with only a tingling feeling as the energy was stirred within her body. This was the first time that he had ever tried using the passive purification array on a person other than himself, and he was intent on seeing its success.

[Shula Brighton]

The door closed behind Raistlin, leaving Shula alone in the lab. God this place made her skin crawl, even with that weird tingly thing he'd done to her that seemed to cut off the nociceptors in her body to her brain. Her whole body itself wasn't numb; if it had been, she would half collapsed in a heap by now. She could feel pressure and movement, but no pain.... which, given how little the man seemed to care for her was probably a blessing. She hadn't moved nor looked behind her when his hand had been there, and now that she'd been told he wasn't done she only wondered what else he could do to her... and more importantly wondering what he already had done.

Shula squeezed her eyes shut tightly and could almost feel herself slipping. When she had come to South she opted to change herself outwardly to try and gain the favor of her peers when they were against her, and over the last three years had become more and more that girl and less the one she had started out as. One could only wonder who would emerge from this lab somewhere in Aerugo, and if that Shula that Spade loved more than his cigs and that Acra would cuddle close and kiss her hair would ever be seen again. Ishvalla help me... The door opened and closed again, and still Shula did not look behind her to her captor, especially not as he moved behind her once more.

"Remain still." Shula swallowed hard and could hear the sloshing of liquid and something removed from that liquid, and something told Shula it wasn't a warm washcloth for her face. Her body began to tremble more as she heard something...squishing, like it was moving. But what comes out of liquid and then starts squishing and OHSHIT what was THAT? Warm, wet, squishy, and on her back and holy mother of Ishval it was squishing into her. There was no pain, but she could feel it, and it made her blood congeal in her veins and her breath grow still. She hadn't been imagining it. Her body really had been moving to this man's will.

Her eyes remained shut as she gripped into the chair's arm, knuckles white and trying desperately to remain calm enough to not kill herself. That sound.... Oh GOD that sound! Skin parting, bones breaking free of their posts and parting, mucsles and tissue splittling... The noise was sickening and wet, and made Shula feel honestly ill. She bit her lip, a whimper of pure fear drowned under the sound of her body no longer belonging to her will; Raistlin would neither hear nor care about the silent liquid that dripped from her chin.

It was a small wonder she was keeping still as best she could, silently repeating any mantra that came to mind to try and keep her calm and as safe as she could be now. She had tried telling herself what her bother had tuaght her about fear being the mind-killer and letting it pass over and through her, but right now that wasn't working very well. She could feel her body changings. Transmogrification in its purest sense and taken to levels she'd never dreamed of as a child when she sat in her grandfather's lap while he tried to teach her about transforming your own soul to become alchemically whole and pure. But now... Now she would never be pure again in her own eyes, Ishvalla's, or anyone else's. Slowly her breaths became deeper and less erratic. Shula could breathe again, easily, comfortably, and unassisted. Her breath caught several times as her lungs rebuilt themselves. Things shifted again. Things tingled and throbbed with life painlessly. The unholy sounds of her body betraying her faded away.

Rothbart's spell was successful, and she was now transformed by his will. Her life was now his to command.

Her eyes didn't open again until Raistlin's hand left her body, Shula's first reaction to left go of the chair and reach over to touch her bare back with her free hand. Nothing. No bumps, changes or anything that hadn't been there before, she skin soft and stretched over where she was growing bony. She was still trembling, but relieved at least that there was nothing showing that she could feel. So what the hell had he DONE to her?! Raistlin walked away and to a desk, Shula not wasting a moment to rehook her bra and pull the small shirt back over her frame, clinging to it as though terrified that she would be asked to remove it again. "You are partially healed now. I say partially because, as easily as I granted you your life, I can relieve you of it should you fail to meet your end of our contract." Contract? Shula bit her lip. Nothing ever came for free, especially not life. And you agreed to whatever his terms were without reading what you signed. You agreed to his requests the moment you picked up that radio to call him.

Shula wiped her eyes and cheeks, shaking, terrified, and angry at herself for being so weak. Even though Spade had done all but order her not to die, if he had know what the cost of her living would have been, would he have let her go? She knew and yeet she still came. I don't deserve them... Raistlin got up from the desk and quietly ordered her to follow him, leaving no room for argument or disobedience. The halls were cold and empty and held the same wretched smell of dank sterile death, all the doors looking identical. She looked all around her and then her eyes finally rested on the door where Raistlin stopped. She examined carefully as his fingers pressed numbers on a pad, unable to understand the little symbols on each button. The door opened revealing an equally cold and sterile... apartment. Huh. I guess even homicidal maniacs and mad scientists have to live somewhere just like everyone else does...

A mug was filled with tea and placed on the table, indicating that it was meant for her to drink it. On the bright side, at least she knew it wasn't poisoned; she watched him pour it, and why kill her now when he'd gone to all the trouble to fix her? Silently she obeyed, sitting at the table and taking the mug into her hands. Oh God it was so warm... The warmest thing in this awful place. Shula took a tentative sip, recognizing it as plain green tea; hardly her favourite (at least not without lots of sugar or honey), but drinkable. The first and faintest of smiles moved to her lips as the warmth from the tea spread through her body. It was bitter, but the warmth was calming her down, trying to revive that voice of optimism trying to tell her that it would be okay. She'd do what he wanted and find some way to win her freedom from him. She would see Acra again and...

Two small dishes were placed in front of her. It had smelled good while Raistlin was cooking... whatever this was. Her tea was refilled, and she was told to eat. She knew her body was hungry, but she honestly didn't feel much like eating. But.... Shula glanced up at Raistlin as he sat down with his own identical meal. Something in her had the feeling that tube feeding wouldn't be a threat with this man and that scalding soup would simply be forced down her throat. She picked up the chopsticks, so thankful now for all those times eating with Acra and Spade and learning how to use them correctly. Chicken with.. some kind of sauce, and rice. She could identify rice, so she took a careful bite of that first. Slightly thicker and stickier than she'd had before, but good. She looked at the soup warily. It was a weird yellow-brown, and smelled... oddly. She took the spoon and moved its contents around. There were white floating... chunks. In weird yellow-brown broth. Summoning all her bravery, Shula took a spoonful with the tofu and broth.

SQUISHY. WHY DID EVERYTHING HAVE TO BE SQUISHY?! It had the consistency of cooked egg whites and was... remarkably salty. And fishy. Squishy egg-white blocks in salty-fishy broth. Death in a bowl. For a moment Shula's face looked like a child struggling to choke down enemy vegetables as she forced herself to swallow it, fairly certain Raistlin wouldn't let her get off with just tasting it. Opting to go around the horrible white things, Shula made to finish the salty broth quietly and politely until it was empty enough. The warmth was wonderful, and the broth wasn't so bad once you got bast the salty-fishy part. As she went back to the rice, Shula twitched in her seat, looking uncomfortable for a moment as she felt something within her prickle and tingle all through her. As quickly as it came it went. Weird... Maybe I'm allergic to the soup. Finally, words found their way back to the surface as she took another bite of the rice, nibbling at it slowly. "Thank you," she said quietly, still unable to look up at Raistlin.

[Raistlin Ambros]

With an air of amusement incomprehensible to any outside party, Raistlin watched as Shula nervously poke at her food, as if she had just been served a poisoned dish. She would be correct to assume such though. However, the woman ate the food anyway, sampling in at first, here and there, until, with obvious discomfort, she sipped spoonfuls of the miso broth until it was no more. The gaze of gleaming red, concealed intent continued as he observed her slight reactions to what could only be the effects of Purification sapping her energy and eliminating the toxins she had just carelessly poured down her throat. No signs of struggle, no signs of immediate damage to the body. The array was perfectly functional. Perfect. Of course, he wouldn't not have ran such a risky experiment had he not been absolutely confident in his abilities and research. Silent pervaded as she nibbled at her rice once more, and Raistlin's cold, keen stare was withdrawn from the young girl and he returned to his own food with an unhurried appetite. He heard her murmur another word of thanks, as needless as it was, simply a step to fulfill some set guideline for respective conduct. Raistlin paid it not mind, it made no difference as to whether or not he returned a hollow 'bitte'

Several stiff moments of silence crept by as the two slowly ate, several seconds, minutes, an eternity, it was all the same here. For Shula, the young Ishvallan had come to Erishkigal, the forgotten underworld of Ishval, the domain of the dark master Nergal, the feared entity cast into the shadows of despair. She had sold her soul for her life, she had dealt with the primordial powers, precursors to Ishvala. She was beyond saving, her life had been forever altered, she was now a part of Erishkigal itself, a forgotten soul.

The young girl would not appreciate this allusion to the ancient lore of Ishval, it had been all but destroyed in the creation of the religion of Ishvala. Ishvala...that supreme being, that "God" the Ishvallans revered. What did Shula Brighton mean to her god now? What did she reflect upon herself? Whatever it may have been, there was no going back for her now, and Raistlin was certain that she realized this herself. She had proven that she was determined enough to survive through such nefarious means as his own devices, he needn't worry anymore, she had chosen her path for better or for worse, she could not afford to falter. Raistlin mused over her fate. If she succeeded in carrying out his will, what would become of her? Perhaps she would continue on to live out the rest of her extended life, or perhaps he would be left with no choice but to discard her, if it was deemed necessary. Ah, well, it was far too early to determine such things, many plans had to be laid out and executed beforehand, the fate of the tool was trivial in the greater scheme.

Raistlin's thoughts returned to the physical present, his attention back to the girl before him, sheepishly eating her dish of rice and yakitori. Well, it was about time for him to reveal one of his cards, a harmless move, with no negative consequence, but a potential for use later on. With deft hands, the ebon haired man withdrew the vial of cyanide based solution from the confines of his pocket, and slid it across the table. The small vial rolled on a curved path until it slowed to a halt, lightly tapping her partially empty bowl, the white label with its chemical formula inscribed upon it, facing her. Ambros remained silent as he watched her carefully, noting her reaction with vague interest. He allowed her time to pick up the vial, to read the inscription over and over, to let her mind fabricate its own conclusions before he uttered anything at all.

"I'm sure you are aware of what that vial contains" said Raistlin, his dark and broody voice breaking the eternal silence that had dwelt in the bleak room for so long. "And if you understand the nature of its contents, then you surely must know what it would mean if you ingested it. So if I were to tell you that you have already swallowed a lethal dose......" he paused, not for effect, but for his own amusement, a twisted sense of humour, but humour nonetheless, a foil to the cold, apathetic, soulless man that most saw.

[Shula Brighton]

The silence in the small living space was uneasy, Shula's stomach knotting with every bite. The warmth from the soup almost relaxed her exept for the disagreeable knotting and prickling feeling that burned in her stomach and chest for a few moments until it had passed, leaving her anxious and uneasy. She was honestly growing full, eating more food in one sitting than she had at any point in weeks as normal-sized portions had a habit of coming back up, leading to her unhealthy weight. But as much as she wanted to push the rest away and just go sleep somehow, she knew that it wouldn't be wise to make any requests at this point; Raistlin had all the aces, and there was nothing of herse that he couldn't easily counter.

Shula was trying desperately not to think too hard about what had transpired. She didn't know how long she'd been gone for, or if she'd been scratched off the list and written as dead; after all, she'd escaped from the hospital while dying. They said that the wounded deer leaps highest, and that dying animals often get one good surge of energy before their bodies finally give in. Maybe she'd used that last push to escape the hospital and die in peace somewhere that her friends wouldn't come looking for her or know about. And maybe that wasn't too far from the truth. Do I even still belong to the world anymore? They never tell you in stories how the person really feels when they make these pacts... Faust became young and powerful and rich. All his dreams came true, but he was still so miserable. But I've never wanted those things... For a moment, Shula paused her picking as her eyes glazed over with shining wetness, biting back the feelings welling within her heart. Is it really a crime to want a fair chance at life?

The bowl of rice and meat were nearly empty, Shula feeling rather tired from eating and the psychological strain, when the silence was broken by the sound of something rolling toward her. Wary red eyes looked up at the small vial as it rolled in small arcs toward her and finally came to a stop at her bown, making a gentle plink!, catching her attention. Raistlin hadn't said a word as he rolled it to her, and she knew he'd done it for a reason... Everything this man said and did was for exact reasons. Slowly, Shula picked up the little vial, looking over the letters that read plainly on its label.

KCN.

Shula blinked, reading those three little letters over and over. She knew what it was. And she knew exactly what it did, and how it worked. But her real question was why. WHY was he rolling her a vial of potassium cyanide like he was passing her the salt. The vial was more than half empty... Did he want her to drink it? But that wouldn't make any sense at all; he'd already gone to a lot of trouble to get her here without being followed or found, healed her and transplanted her lungs. Cyanide inhibited organic cells' ability to respirate. Just a little of it was enough to kill you within seconds depending on how strongly concentrated it was in the liquid solution. Her eyes couldn't stop going over the little black typed letters, feeling like they were just the same as the end of life paperwork she'd just filled out at the hospital.

"I'm sure you are aware of what that vial contains. And if you understand the nature of its contents, then you surely must know what it would mean if you ingested it. So if I were to tell you that you have already swallowed a lethal dose......" Raistlin's voice was calm and still murky as it trailed off, leaving Shula to put two and two together. She was an accomplished alchemist, so basic chemistry was kind of a no-brainer. But to imply she'd just swallowed more than ounce of strong poison and wasn't dead yet...? That just defyed logic. There was nothing like a good joke to Shula, and this was nothing like one. Red eyes grew very wide and fearful, the vial dropping the few centimeters from her hand back onto the table as it really settled into her head that she really was just a thing to him, and his to do with as he saw fit.

"I... I would say I needed some ipecac and a lot of hydrogen peroxide to nullify it, but it should already be too late for both..." Shula's voice became quiet, lost in thought as she tried to think of this logically, her body beginning to shake once more. Cyanide kills within moments of ingesting it. She'd had enough to kill several adults at once from the looks of it. But she was still breathing without a problem, and if the label was exact enoug to notate the chemical composition of the toxin, logically it should have mentioned anything else it was mixed with. Her lip quivered slightly, a small, terrified tear slipping out the corner of her eye and down her cheek as she looked back up to Raistlin's unwavering gaze, struggling with words for a moment before they quietly came back. "...What... What have you done to me...?"

[Raistlin Ambros]

Raistlin watched Shula quietly as she examined the vile and its contents, slowly answering his question with the appropriate answer, expected of any alchemist worth his study, basic chemistry, common sense. A cryptic sense of amusement exuded from the way he observed her pensive state, a hard and cold stare that felt her out, discerning her possible thoughts and emotions based on the changes in her facial expressions, even the slightest change in the muscles or body language. Her body tensed up and stiffened, her face contorted into a lamentable expression of heart wrenching distress. She fidgeted with the gold and emerald ring that hung from the necklace around her neck. Raistlin noted it as a possible tell, he could make use of it later on to determine whether or not she was ever lying to him. It was a bit of a game to him, reading other people. It was important, vital even, to be well versed in reading the minds of others, it made it easier to predict their actions, easier to manipulate or act against. Observing Miss Brighton was of utmost importance, he had to be certain of her mindset, there could be any unknown variables, as his piece on the chessboard, he had to know every possible move for every possible theoretical situation. Every bit of information he could obtain concerning her would support that.

And so she reacted, quivering with fear, a fear that manifested itself from the state of unknowing. A human condition, a human reaction. She wept a single, pitiful tear, but to Raistlin, it was just something to note, evidence to support that Shula Brighton was an emotional creature, weak-hearted and easily frightened by death and things incomprehensible to her. "...What... What have you done to me...?" asked she with a trembling voice. Her red eyes locked with his own once more, those orbs of blood stained fate. With soft, tenebrous tones, he granted her the answer she sought. "I've altered you're physical composition, though rather on a genetic level, you could say its more alchemical in nature. To put it simply, your body has been altered to exhibit a perfect immunity to toxins and harmful substances.". Everything he said was in the factual and apathetic tone of a scientist. He cared not if she objected to these alterations, and he was not moved by her sorrow, regret, or fear, and no amount of pleading would ever reach his callous heart. She was essentially his, and he would do as he pleased with her. But there was no point in hiding his reasons, he would at least grant her the knowledge and assurance of his intentions. "Simply, I thought it would benefit you to some degree, and therefore, it could benefit me, that is all"


"Now" Raistlin continued, his tone growing noticably grimmer. This was the main object to this entire exchange. "In exchange for your life, I expect you to meet my terms and demands. As I previously stated, your life is only yours to live out, I am in control of your fate as well as just how long your life might be." A pause in speech and an observation of her reaction was noted before he pressed on. "My terms are quite simple, I won't have you working to undermine your country, I have no interest in the leaders or the nations of this world. But I suspect Amestris, particularly its upper echelon of military leaders, of holding secrets that pertain to human transmutation and the philosopher's stone itself. I assume you know of these things to some extent, yes?".

[Shula Brighton]

Raistlin's tone and expression had hardly shited externally and wouldn't hint in the slightest at the man's amusement at her turmultuous feelings. She could only see cool indiference and the slightest tones of vague interest in his eyes and words, making Shula that much more apprehensive of her current state. She'd willingly surrendered herself to him, and he'd already said essentially that she belonged to him now, but Shula didn't think that would include mind fucks. She was already stressed enough just living day to day; the added stress of knowing someone could feet you poison just for shits and grins, it not kill you, but know they can kill you just deciding it's so? Her hair was going to fall out like that.

I've altered you're physical composition, though rather on a genetic level, you could say its more alchemical in nature. To put it simply, your body has been altered to exhibit a perfect immunity to toxins and harmful substances." As seemed only characteristic of the man, Raistlin's reply was straightforward and at least honest, though the complete lack of empathy did little to ease her mind. He'd altered her body to live again when it was dying, broken and beyond repair; he'd changed her very DNA and rewrote the fabric of her being to suit his needs. "Simply, I thought it would benefit you to some degree, and therefore, it could benefit me, that is all" Ahh, glorious confirmation. So nice to have.

There was a moment where Shula had begun to try and let everything sink in and catch her breath. This was honestly the most Raistlin had said to her since he initially caught her on the battlefield. She'd been in his company for some hours, at the very least, even though she didn't even know what day it was anymore. And yet, things seemed to be happening so quickly, the grotesque sounds of her own horrific surgery still echoing in her head whenever he closed her eyes. As much as she wanted to reassure herself that granting her bilogical to everything but aging was a good thing, it honestly made her wonder about what would become of her. She'd never thougth about the repercussions of such tings as she'd never known they'd existed before. But it did raise a lot of questionsm because even medicines were sometimes made of toxic things, and helpful things in large doses were dangerous... Would it suppress all medicines, too?

Beofre Shula could line up her many questions, Raistlin spoke again, his voice taking a darker tone. "Now... In exchange for your life, I expect you to meet my terms and demands. As I previously stated, your life is only yours to live out; I am in control of your fate as well as just how long your life might be." Her stomach knotted, that uneasy feeling making her want to go relieve herself of her food returning full-force and twisting at her heart. Damn... So much for hoping he'd just decide to have done this pro-bono, or let this be a mutual relationship based on trust and cooperation. Nope, he'd made it pretty clear. Master and servant. Going to be answering to someone all my life, aren't I? And now the person I answer to has complete control over how long that will be...

"My terms are quite simple, I won't have you working to undermine your country, I have no interest in the leaders or the nations of this world. But I suspect Amestris, particularly its upper echelon of military leaders, of holding secrets that pertain to human transmutation and the philosopher's stone itself. I assume you know of these things to some extent, yes?" Shula almost felt her heart skip a beat as her blood ran a little colder. Human transmutation and the Philosopher's Stone. The number one no-no for alchemists, freelance and State alike. Fuuuuuuuck. Why couldn't it have been Amestris' top secret strudel and beer formulas, or that Almdudler soda?! Shula drew in a breath, steadying herself a moment before answering.

"Well... In Amestris at least both topics are considered taboo, and if you're a State Alchemist like I am and caught going that way, you can be court-martialed. But honestly... I do know. A little, anyway. I don't really know that human transmutation can be done." She paused, reaching for her teacup and draining the last of it; she wasn't sure what had been poisoned, but she was fairly certain it hadn't been the tea. Putting the empty cup back down, she looked back up to Raistlin, uncertainty written plainly in her eyes. "And with the destruction across the country, the military lost a lot of its research archives..." She doubted Raistin wanted excuses, but that was an irrefutable fact. Most of the bases had been destroyed, and that took their libraries, archives, R&D departments... anything useful.

[Raistlin Ambros]

"Well... In Amestris at least both topics are considered taboo, and if you're a State Alchemist like I am and caught going that way, you can be court-martialed. But honestly... I do know. A little, anyway. I don't really know that human transmutation can be done." Said the small woman, whom then nervously sipped at her tea in her pause. "And with the destruction across the country, the military lost a lot of its research archives..."

Such imprudent assertions. It was as if this woman was trying to muster up mitigations to defend herself from having to carry out her end of this arrangement. Ah, well it was no matter. She told him nothing that he wasn't already aware of. The pale skinned man smirked with a look of mild amusement whilst observing the tell-tale signs of unease that afflicted the Ishvallan. "The records may have been lost to lower ranking politicians and military officers, you are correct to suggest this, however, you shouldn't assume that they are entirely lost."

Raistlin reached into a breast pocket on his black outfit, retrieving a small, folded piece of paper from its contents. Unfolding the paper, his eyes glazed over what was inscribed on the pale, white surface, and then looked back at his....patient, then back to the paper in his hand. "Tataki Masu, Commander of East. Jethro Black, Commander of West." He began, naming off names like facts in monotone. "And you should be familiar with this one: Spade Aeries, Commander of Central. Certainly he, considering his station in Central, the hub of Amestris, should know something." He paused and studied the young woman for any reactions, which were noted with mild interest. Simply observations on her nature, her emotions, her body language. These would all be of some use. He continued on, "Murazar Dauthi, Commander of North. His reputation procedes him, I have particular suspicions in his..... peculiar, alchemy. Reila Tsukino, the Commander of the Briggs outpost. An Aerugese, nonetheless...." Raistlin paused and mused to himself, carefully reading over his own thoughts before he formulated them in preparation to share them. It was sensitive information after all. "I suspect her to be an outcast heir to the Aerugese throne, the rightful Empress." The information was not absolute, but too many documents, too man suspicions, he could not deny the possibility. The woman hadn't even bothered to change her royal family name, it was so obvious that it nearly made him doubt its credibility. She could easily become a high status traitor. The officials of Aerugo would be in an uproar, it would certainly cause political turmoil. The Empress of Aerugo, fighting for their enemy. Ah, but that was no matter to him. She only interested him because she was inevitably related to her.

"Daigoro Ito" continued Raistlin in murky tones, "Also an Aerugese outcast. Very close with Tsukino. He may hold some key information as well. Those two......." Another pause, another composition of thoughts. "Are you aware of the incident at South, over a year ago? The leaders of Amestris thought that they could hide such an incident from the prying eyes of their enemies, but that was a foolish assumption on their part. I've looked into it personally. South, was destroyed and its inhabitants now make up the components of a philosopher's stone. Well, that is assuming the Amestrian government hasn't depleted it yet. They've had a history of using these stones in their conquests, I'd assume they would not hesitate to use such methods again."

Raistlin folded the paper in his hand back into a neat sqaure and tucked it into his pocket once more. He stared at Shula with eyes of crimson, letting the silence slip by for only a moment before he concluded his...briefing, he supposed you might call it. "Hild Leben Liebhaber Schwarz. Aurelius Carston Schwarz. The former leaders of Amestris. The current leaders of RIOTE. They were responsible for the recent destruction of Amestris, yet I do not beleive they would be so foolish as to not take the classified and hidden information of that country with them. Considering rumours and their own proclamations, I believe that they too, hold the information I seek, and perhaps even more.......But do not worry, I don't expect you to infiltrate their organization. But of course, I expect you to be discrete in your probing of Ametrian information. If I learn that you are captured, I will have you disposed of before they can even begin to interrogate you."

[Shula Brighton]

It was moments like these that made Shula realize just how small she was in the world and how little she knew of the world and people. How little training had covered in regards to moments like these. She knew that if taken prisoner she was to tell them nothing but name, rank and serial number on punishment of death, but he'd already killed her, easily and telling him those facts had done nothing to change that marker in her fate. She'd willingly called on him and surrendered herself into his services in exchange for her life, and now was being asked crucial information; this was something nobody had told her how to handle. The subjects were taboo, so any questions she'd ever had about them had quickly been stopped, hushed and never brought up again. Nobody had ever told her what to do if someone ordered her to go against everything she'd been told not to. If she were found out, she'd be court martialed for sure, but if she didn't do what Raistlin wanted? Shula's eyes cast back down toward her lap, submitting inwardly. She came to him because she didn't want to die, and she knew that if he wanted her dead it would probably not be fast nor painless.

"The records may have been lost to lower ranking politicians and military officers, you are correct to suggest this, however, you shouldn't assume that they are entirely lost." Of course he knew that the country was in a state of tatters; the whole world knew that. Why had she thought telling him would change his mind? The sound of paper unfolding caught her attention, even though she didn't want to look up again. She wanted to go find a corner and cry until her soul was empty enough that this wouldn't weigh on her. She wanted to run out of the room and find a way out to call for help that wouldn't come. "Tataki Masu, Commander of East. Jethro Black, Commander of West.” The Generals of Amestris. The most powerful people in the country apart from the Fuhrer that had condemned them all to death. She knew their names, but hadn't met any of them but.. “And you should be familiar with this one: Spade Aeries, Commander of Central. Certainly he, considering his station in Central, the hub of Amestris, should know something." That got her. Shula looked back up to Raistlin nervously, her heart unsure if it wanted to stop or race like a hummingbird's, even as she tried to swallow it down like Spade had meant nothing beyond being her boss to her.

He wanted her to prod the leaders of Amestris to see what they knew, because surely being responsible for so much and so many meant that nothing was hidden from them. And of all of them, Spade would tell her anything she asked f him, if she asked. But she knew that was a two-way street with him; Spade was never one to pry into her life, but she knew he watched her, just as she always watched him. They knew each other too well. If she suddenly started asking about things they both knew she shouldn't, the great former-detective would certainly know something was up. Oh Hell's bells... How'm I going to hide this from Spade? He'll know if I ask! He knows I can't lie for shit! Acra had warned Shula before that her theories behind her plant alchemy were treading down a dark path and it was a very fine line between what was and wasn't too close to an invisible boundary that nobody would clearly identify. So she never talked about it again, even though Acra might have gotten an inkling that she was already up to something, and he'd already shown her that he was more clever than she gave him credit for. A dark thought shot through her heart. Acra and Spade were her best friends. They would both help her if she asked for it, and would chase her into Hell to drag her back if they knew. But Raistlin had warned her before if she let on to anyone about her dealings with him, that she would die. If I go to either of them for help, they could be killed, too...

Raistlin was watching her for a moment, pausing in his list. He was probably already well-aware that Spade was her boss, though; he'd taken her dog tags before, and that would have made it pretty clear. Shula swallowed hard, nodding slowly. “...I do know him. We're-” ”I love you more than those one night stands, Shu. “-coworkers.” Raistlin didn't seem to care much about her input, once again stating things he already knew as her hand came up to nervously fidget with Gustav's ring. Her doctor continued on with his list, naming off her other friend, Murazar. Murazar's alchemy was frightening and was leaving the mercenary as one man filled with the souls of many; he was the Damned, walking. And it was torturing him, and she knew it. She didn't understand the how or why of it, nor had she the courage to ask him. All she knew how to do was distract his troubled mind to give him a few moments of peace here and there. If anyone knew about the secrets to human transmutation, he was probably her best bet and all the more reason to avoid him completely. Fox was her friend, but he frightened her, not just because of his alchemy, but he himself. He had a way of cornering people into submitting, and if she hinted that she was after something, there would be no way she could hide it from him. Fox would get his way as usual, and corner her into telling him whatever was troubling her. He'd done it before when he'd threatened to have a mission pulled and negative marks in her record, and expose her secrets to the open air if she didn't tell him what she was hiding. Before it was just the secrets of her disease, that she was dying; those secrets that would have merely gotten her dismissed after she'd worked so hard to get so far. This secret, though.... Oh, she hoped she didn't see Murazar soon. For both their sakes.

The Ice Queen of Briggs, and her right hand man, Daigoro Ito. Again, she knew the names and reputations, but not the people associated with them. Briggs was THE fortress. It was the most secure place in Amestris, and kind of operated on its own, with or without the Military's consent or approval, and this had been proven in history. Briggs were more loyal to their own than anyone else in the country, so they were pretty much a no. Right, I'll just walk right up to Briggs' front door, ask to look at their super top-secret archives, say pretty please and offer them cookies and get all that I need. Riiiiight. "Are you aware of the incident at South, over a year ago? The leaders of Amestris thought that they could hide such an incident from the prying eyes of their enemies, but that was a foolish assumption on their part. I've looked into it personally." Shula blinked from her thoughts, the sudden change of topic catching her attention. South? South was a raw nerve with her still, even though she'd recovered from the loss as best she could. The pain of that raw spot stabbed at her heart like the dull ache of a wound that wouldn't heal all the way.

“I am... Well, not the details, I didn't fight in that battle. But South was mine and my family's home when I was little, and where I was stationed until RIOTE destroyed it.” She didn't need to state that she wasn't in city limits when it vanished; her being alive today made that fact obvious. Shula let out a small sigh, swallowing those feelings. It had been about a year and she still didn't understand why anyone would destroy the whole city, or how they could just... level it like that. What they stood to gain from it...

"South was destroyed and its inhabitants now make up the components of a philosopher's stone. Well, that is assuming the Amestrian government hasn't depleted it yet. They've had a history of using these stones in their conquests, I'd assume they would not hesitate to use such methods again." That dull ache from the healing scar ripped open a fresh wound in Shula's heart. It... it what? She hadn't heard him right, she couldn't have. RIOTE killed everyone and destroyed South. That's what she'd been told. But... A philosopher's stone? It was made of people? Shula's hand went to her mouth, her eyes shutting tightly to fight the horrified, pain-filled liquid that welled in her eyes. That was a news flash to her. So Raistlin knew that stones were made of people and wanted her to find out the directions, and somewhere in Amestris was a stone that was made of her HQ, her coworkers, her bosses, her friends, and her own blood family. Her shoulders shook as she muffled a sob. Her father had moved out of South and settled in Resembool after the divorce, just like her mother had moved from South to settle in Meissan and live with her ex's father. But Ulrich Brighton's other children and grandchildren were all residents of South, born and raised, like Shula was and would have been. South was HOME. And to find out that their souls weren't at rest and were in something her own beloved country was USING?!

I think I'm going to be sick... Shula's hand remained over her mouth as she fought her body's urge to relieve itself of the poisoned food and all the horrible feelings in her right now. Her mind was a treacherous see-saw of thoughts. Stones were made of people. Raistlin wanted to know how to do that and how many were in the country in use. Stones were made of people. Every living person in South was killed to be a stone. Stones were made of people. The Military was using that very stone for whatever purpose. It was dizzying. Hild, her creepy brother and RIOTE were mentioned, but Shula'd heard enough and didn't want to hear anymore and to hell with her instructions. Enough.

“--But do not worry, I don't expect you to infiltrate their organization. But of course, I expect you to be discrete in your probing of Ametrian information. If I learn that you are captured, I will have you disposed of before they can even begin to interrogate you." Shula's eyes creaked open, looking back up to Raistlin. She didn't expect he'd care in the slightest that the news was crushing. All of it hurt. She'd never imagined she'd be lied to like that by her own commanding officers, not about things so important or personal. And now as her marching orders listed in her head like her morning checklist, she just looked like she was rather defeated and surrendering to the truth of everything.

”You just... want the information, right? You won't ask me to make it for you... right?” She wiped at her cheek with her palm. She had to do this or she would die. Another small sob choked up to her throat and was pushed down, coming out as a sniffle. ”And... and if I do this... will you let me go?” Part of her asked if Raistlin would release her from his service and let her live at the end of this, or if he'd simply kill her when she was of no more use to him. Part of her wondered if it even mattered.

[Reila Tsukino]

[BUMP]

[Raistlin Ambros]

Raistlin coldly analyzed the spectrum of visible reactions to the information he fed the woman. Panic at the mention of Aeries. She said they were coworkers, but her hesitation, the quivering of her voice. It was not difficult to draw to the conclusion that she had a level of personal relations with her commanding officer. As for what that might entail in the grand scheme of things, that was yet to be determined. Surely she understood the consequences of betrayal. But could she lie to a friend? Emotions were unpredictable factors in this...... Again, her pained emotions bled through her expressions, this time at the mention of South. A mixture of sorrow, shock, he assumed. It was not that he emphasized with her inner pain. No, empathy was a useless tool, it clouded decision. But reading another's inner emotions through minute reactions, this was of key importance when asserting influence and investing time, energy, and liability into a human being. Humans are impulsive and emotional creatures. One cannot leave them unattended if they expect to gain anything from them.

”You just... want the information, right? You won't ask me to make it for you... right?”
she wiped her hand across her cheek, spreading tears across her skin. Such terrible ability when it came to suppressing emotions, or hiding them. That could prove to be a great risk.....”And... and if I do this... will you let me go?”

A moment's silence as Raistlin studied her with invisible intentions and cold, crimson eyes. Fear. She was still afraid of death. If she posed that question, after all she was told, then she still valued her life enough to fear for it. She could be manipulated still...but....

"Your emotions serve only to betray your thoughts. I can read you like an open book. Make that mistake in front of others and you'll spell out your own failure. Yet, in the end, you cannot hide yourself from me. Keep that in mind." said the callous man, with words tinged like cold, effective venom. "It would seem that I cannot place much trust in you as you are now. You will remain here until I give you leave. Until then, I shall....teach you, to control your overactive emotions. As for your life...as long as you do as I say, and do not force my hand, I will have no reason to kill you, nor continue to hold you against your will."

Raistlin rose from his chair, standing over the girl, staring down at her meek form with blood red eyes. He took up his dishes, as well as Shula's half finished food and stacked them skillfully in his arms, then parted from the table, making his way to the kitchen set at the end of the room. He set them down with a soft klink into the sink, turning the faucet to let a stream of water run over the pile of tableware. The sound of the running faucet seemed unaturally loud in the otherwise silent and thin-aired room, but Raistlin was indifferent to it. He turned back to the small woman, sitting stiffly at her place at the dining table, motionless. Alarmed, perhaps. She was too stiff, too likely to collapse under pressure. He had to fix that. The roaring sound of the running water persisted as Raistlin brazenly glared at the woman, studying her over, giving no heed to any discomfort it might have caused her. When the sink was filled, a black gloved hand reached for the faucet knob, turning it tightly until the water dwindled to a trickle, then stopped all together. Raistlin though silently to himself, taking his eyes of Shula to focus on this own train of thought. So.... he had never held a guest in his laboratory before...well, other than in solitary confinement, to await their use. But this was a different case....He would have to-

A cellphone hanging from the belt at his waist rang suddenly. It had only rang once before its owner swiftly snatched it and raised it to his ear. "R...Raistlin... Please... help me... A...A... got me again... They... poked things... she shot me... I can't... it's scary... dark... but bright at the same time... and everything... is the same as last time... Please...I need you... Rai... Stu... Li--"

"Akiha!". Raistlin had raised his voice when the line cut. Project AA.....why this sudden move? This was entirely unexpected, it was.....Raistlin began to feel....uneasy. Shula Brighton would have to wait for now. He couldn't afford to lose Akiha, not now. He had to depart immediately.

Raistlin clinched his teeth tightly as he briskly headed out the exit back into the corridors of his laboratory. He halted at the doorway's edge, hesitating for a moment, and then spoke, his voice stoic still, yet, somehow softer. "I....must leave for now. You are not to leave this room, that is for your own safety. The kitchen and bed are yours to use. I will return soon enough...."

And he vanished into the corridor outside, his boots echoing off the metallic floor, growing softer until they were no more.

[Shula Brighton]

Emotions of the human heart were such a funny thing. They could supply a person with the greatest source of strength, and at the same time, they had the power to completely crumble a person and break them. Love was strongest of all things, or so Shula had been told. But she had never known fear, not like this. There was always the fear that came with knowing eventually her body would succumb to its premature fate, but she'd had time to accept that fear and cope with it. Sorrow and mourtning were feelings that she'd felt so rarely growing up, grieving only felt once when her little bird had died as a child. But grieving for the canary was different than grieving for her best friend, an entire city and her family, and since then it was becoming a more and more regular occurance that she never got used to and only seemed to cut deeper into her with each loss.

Right now, Shula's feelings were a bubbling mess. She was so afraid right now. Afraid for her life. Afriad for what might happen if she failed Raistlin, or worse, if she suceeded. He already knew far more than she had about stones, and that knowledge was heartbreaking. But if it costed human lives and he wanted to know how... did he want to make one for himself? If that's the case, then more innocent people... Oh god, can I really go through with this? Exhaustion was beginning to set in, her emotional rollercoaster draining he. Fear, anger, deepest sadness and loss... They all mixed together with the burning desire to simply go home and ask forgiveness.

Forgiveness... Would there be any absolution for something like this? "Your emotions serve only to betray your thoughts. I can read you like an open book. Make that mistake in front of others and you'll spell out your own failure. Yet, in the end, you cannot hide yourself from me. Keep that in mind. It would seem that I cannot place much trust in you as you are now. You will remain here until I give you leave. Until then, I shall....teach you, to control your overactive emotions. As for your life...as long as you do as I say, and do not force my hand, I will have no reason to kill you, nor continue to hold you against your will." Shula's eyes slipped down, blurring and staring throughthe table. Her emotions made her weak and able to be easily read, but she'd always felt they were an asset... weren't they? She could empathize better with people and connect with them, and that's why she was often sent out to investigate things of a more delicate nature as opposed to brute strength.

"Teach" her to control her feelings. Somehow she rather doubted it was one of the pep courses or calming exercises she'd covered in her yoga classes. The dishes were gathered and poured into the sink, the silence and sound of running water filling her ears as her thoughts raced. Raistlin and his "home" were so cold, and the cold was beginning to set in on her. The idea of whatever he had in mind for "teaching" her terrified her; if it was anything like the training special forces went through to cope with interrogation, it would be little more than torture, and Raistlin was more than able to heal any physical damage he caused her in the process. She sat silently, trying to think urgently of how she'd possibly win against this. His phone rang, but she didn't look up. Maybe... Maybe if she gathered the information and only gave him part of it and omitted a few teensy tiny itsy bitsy but ever-so-crucial details that will keep it from working. She can feign ignorance and hope that he doesn't research on his own to fill in her gaps... Oh, but he's smarter than that, surely he'd be smart enough to check her work.

"I....must leave for now. You are not to leave this room, that is for your own safety. The kitchen and bed are yours to use. I will return soon enough...." Wait... he was leaving? And leaving her alone? Shula blanched. Oh please don't leave me alone here! Without another word or looking back, Raistlin left the room, the door sliding shut and locking behind him. Shula was left alone in the silent, cold room with nothing but her thoughts and dishes in the sink. She looked down at the vial of poison in front of her, staring at her from where she dropped it moments ago. He'd poisoned her food to show her she was his. Shula wondered if this was how horses and wild animals felt when they were being broken for riding or to be kept in zoos and carnivals.

I can only live so long as I do as he says... And even if I do as he asks, he didn't say that he would let me go. He isn't the type to just catch and release, is he? He'll just keep having me do his bidding over and over until I'm not useful anymore. And then? And then he'll just... he'll just... "--he'll just kill me and throw me away." Shula's voice was heavy and dull, devoid of the light and warmth she was known for. She was out of tears, cold seizing her heard and leaving her numb. The vial rolled into her fingers, almost of its own volition. Pure, undiluted cyanide. It should have made her cells unable to respirate and killed her in moments. THe stopper removed itself in her hands and pressed to Shula's lips. Before it had been diluted in her food, probably in that awful salty soup. Perhaps it only didn't kill her because it was a smaller amount than he'd led her to believe? Or maybe it only worked because he was right there and had some control over it? After all... he had said that her life was his now.

Shula shut her eyes tightly, her head tipping back. Think of it as a tube shot... Just not a watermelon sour.. She swallowed in two large, full gulps and pulled the vial away quickly, only droplets and trace amounts left in the container. Her body began to tremble slightly, waiting as she took in a deep, slow breath. She wondered if it would be the last breath and that whatever Raistlin did wouldn't work again. She wondered if it even mattered. The burning. A burning deep inside her chest flared up angrily and spread through her body, almost making her dizzy as the cyanide was neutralized. Shula stood up shakily, unsure if she was more horrified that what had happened really was true, or that she'd duplicated the experiment on her own to see if the results were the same. She stepped toward the sink, dropping the empty vial into the sinkful of water with a dull plunk as she stepped away.

She was going numb somewhere inside. She could feel it. Defeat on the deepest of levels. Shula didn't really feel herslf walking around the cold and rather spartan apartment. She only vaguely observed that she was now sitting on the bed she was invited to use until Raistlin returned. He won't let me go until he says he can trust me... and who knows how long that will be? Shula had vanished into Hell without a trace, surrendered to the devil and was now his to use. Her body slumped over, her face burying into the pillow as her body curled into itself. Acra.... Spade.... I'm so sorry. Quiet sobs were muffled by the pillow and died in the silence of the underworld. Silently, invisibly, flame died into nothing.

END THREAD

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