A Morning Brawl

[Angra Mainyu]

Clumps of dirt getting stuck in the threads of his boots, Angra dreaded through the forest he stumbled upon, fairly surprised to see a forest located in a city, having absolutely no clue that it was considered the Empress' territory. Enjoying himself at the moment seeing how it resembled his home scenery more, Angra looked through a small hole in a bush, seeing a deer grazing. Surprising him further that animals thrived in this forest, he moved to a position so that the morning light wasn't obstructing his view of the deer. This actually solved his food issue, seeing how he always lived off the land his entire life. Reaching into his vest he pulled out a three inch long needle that was two inches thick. Kneeling down he held the need tightly in his fist, watching the deer silently graze for a moment. Throwing the needle forward he whistled simultaneously, making the deer lift its head, alarmed by the sound. Though the moment it's head lifted up its was put into the path of the needle, the entire length of the needle entering through the deers eye. Involuntarily shaking for a moment the deer dropped to the ground, its left leg in the front twitching. Standing from behind the bushes he walked over to the deer, staring down at its leg that was twitching, only taking a few seconds until the leg became motionless. Kneeling down he grabbed the small bit of needle that was sticking out, quickly pulling it out. Suddenly he felt a very sharp pain in the back of his head, slowly falling forward as his vision drifted black.

Groaning at the sharp pain in the back of his head Angra opened his eyes, trying to focus on what was happening. Being that he was still a little out of it he wasn't sure why he couldn't move his arms down, both of them being suspended above his head. Finally managing to get his bearings he saw that he was being drug across the ground, a guard on each side of him dragging him by the arms. Using the advantage of surprise seeing how they weren't aware that he was awake he suddenly planted his knees on the ground and dropped his entire body, dead weight, to the ground. Stumbling forward the guards tried to keep themselves from falling, giving Angra time to jump back and check himself for any damages. The two guards were almost a foot shorter than Angra, one of them being a little thicker in muscle than the other one. Speaking with anger thick in his tone he started to stiffen his frame. “What is the meaning of this!? What gives you the right to strike me from behind?” The two guards chuckled from Angra's question, as if the answer was right in front of his face. Looking to the palace in front of him he realized that it was. No doubt it was the Empress' forest and being there or hunting in it was forbidden. The thinner one took another step forward to Angra, speaking in a slightly high pitched tone.

“Don't play dumb with us, everyone knows that hunting the Empress' game is a punishable crime. Lets rough him up, make sure he doesn't forget it.” The two guards began to snicker, the smaller one attempting to make a circle around Angra, letting his friend take the front. Standing with a completely straight posture, sticking his chest out and making it solid, he literally plowed right into the guard, pushing him to the ground. Taking a view steps back he looked to the two guards, his tone now very menacing.

“The smallest hint that you are about to strike me and I will brake you.” Inhaling deeply Angra's face started to turn read, veins forming on his forearms, biceps, neck, just about any area of skin that could be seen around his black jacket and pants had veins popping out. Once having every muscle tensed in his body he stood in a defensive stance, having both clenched fist raised up to the level of his chest, his right a little further out than his left. As the large guard laughed at his companion the small man stood up quickly enraged by his embarrassment. Charging at Angra he began to yell, raising his fist to strike Angra down. Throwing his first forward the guard attempted to land his punch into the center of Angra's face. Letting out a short tension releasing yell Angra slammed his fist hard into the mans nose, swinging so fast that the guard had absolutely no reaction time to do anything while mid strike. Dropping to the ground out cold Angra shuffled his feet, gritting his teeth as he tensed his body once again. “Leave me be or your next,” Angra warned, speaking through gritted teeth. Laughing the man whistled loudly, stepping over his collapsed friend to close some distance between himself and Angra.

“Don't worry, I won't be as careless as my friend.” Suddenly stepping into arms length of Angra the guard swung a punch, connecting it to his right cheek. He than followed up with a quick three piece, jabbing his left fist into Angra's stomach twice, following up with a right hook to Angra's chin. Stumbling back with a low growl rumbling in Angra's throat, his pain stricken face stared at the guards. Resuming the same defensive position he tensed his body all over, watching the guard advance. Swinging a quick right jab the guard landed another hit to Angra's face making him stumble back. Stepping forward he swung his elbow up wards, hitting the bottom of Angra's chin. Growling again Angra shook off his blurry vision and resumed his same stance, tensing his body all over. Two guards coming from two different sides of the palace, answering the whistle they had heard, looked on to see the fight unfolding. Going to aid the man that was out cold on the ground they hooted and hollered to their friend fighting. The larger guard that managed to land a considerable amount of blows on Angra took a step forward, reaching forward to take hold of Angra's hair. Suddenly Angra let out a scream, swaying his body to the side and delivered a crushing blow into the mans elbow, releasing the tension from his pain into the point of contact. Or as his people would put it, releasing your inner energy into the point of contact. A loud snap was heard as the section from his elbow to the tip of his fingers fell limb, a scream bellowing from the guards lungs. Pausing for a slight moment to tense his body again Angra let out another scream, slamming his fist hard into the mans throat, delivering two more shots to his cut all the while letting out little screams with each strike. Buckling to his knees the guard started to gasp for air, holding one hand to his throat as the other held his stomach. Letting his body fall loose Angra shuffled backwards, settling back away from the guard in his same defensive stance.

“Your just as careless. I tell you all now, leave me be. You four are not a match to take me down!” Angra stated this rather furiously, still angered that they expected him to roll over after they blind sided him.

“How about all of us?” A voice questioned from inside the palace, a man emerging to descend down the stairs in the front, followed by about seven other guards. “Is eleven enough to take you down?” The man asked with a snicker, the group of guards snickering right alongside him. He guessed that these guards were rather bored, not too many people were stupid enough to attack the palace. Looking to all the men Angra took a step or two backwards, scanning his eyes over every guard that now stood in front of him. Letting a low smirk form on his face he bent his knees slightly, moving his left fist farther back from his right.

“Only one way to find out.” Looking at him as if he was crazy one of the guards took it upon himself to advance forward, ready to start this brawl. Swinging two left jabs followed by a right hook, Angra managed to weave every one, ducking the last hook. As he came back up he moved forward some, lunging up so that the top of his head slammed into the mans chin. Than as he came down from this lunge he brought his right elbow down on the top of his head. Without a second to breathe Angra leaned to the side to dodge an ax kick. Grabbing hold of leg with his right arm he brought his left palm down onto the mans knee, making it pop out of place. Than lifting the mans leg higher he kicked the leg he was standing on out from under him. Throwing his left arm up he blocked a right hook with his forearm, the guard throwing one hook after the other at Angra. Blocking each one with the appropriate forearm he finally caught one of the mans arms. Twisting it behind his back he slammed his palm into the guards shoulder blade, making him roughly hit the ground with a dislocated shoulder. Growling Angra fell forward onto his knees, receiving a crushing forearm to the back of his neck. Wasting no time to focus on his own pain he threw his legs under him to trip the man who struck him forward, rolling out of the way so that he didn't land on top of him. Quickly jumping to his feet he managed to duck right in time for a clothesline not to connect with his face. Leaning forward he slammed his fist into a guards face that was attempting to strike him, quickly sliding his right foot backwards so that he could turn easily to strike anyone coming up on his back.

“Give up you fool! Theres too many of us for you to handle!!” The guard who first spoke for the larger group was still standing on the steps, watching the fight unfold. Though he knew he was right, he was very surprised to see how well this man knew how to fight. Any average individual would have had trouble with the first two. Motioning a guard to him that was standing back, hold his broken elbow with a twisted expression. “Go tell the Empress what is happening here, tell her that we need her insight on how to deal with this intruder once we get him down.” Nodding and taking off into the palace the guard who gave the order contemplated to himself. In his own view he didn't see it to be a wise move to let this man live. If he was too become part of the rebellion, if he wasn't already, he could foresee Joscelin finding very creative ways to use this mans abilities to his advantage. Still fending all the men off, starting to receive more blows as the circle closed tighter around him, desperately looking for a way out of the circle. The fighting paused for a moment, every guard and Angra himself breathing very heavy. Every guard stared at Angra as he stood very still, his eyes never resting in one spot. He knew if he didn't get himself out of this circle soon his chances of making an escape would be even less likely than they already were. Inhaling deeply Angra tensed his body all over like earlier, charging straight forward as his voice slowly built into a yell. Jumping in the air he let out a very loud scream, drop kicking a man in the chest as hard as he could. The man actually moved back with enough force to cause the four other guards behind him to fall over, almost like a stack of dominoes. Seeing his chance to get out of the circle Angra rolled forward onto his feet and darted for the hole he made in the circle. Attempting to jump over the men he had knocked down a guard managed to grab hold of Angra's foot, making him fall face forward on the ground. Pulling him hard back into the circle he sat down on his back as man after man piled on, some holding his legs out stretched as others held his arms in place. Struggling with all his might he only managed to shake the men, unable to get free from their grasp. Letting out a huff he settled is chin on the ground and ceased his struggling, much to sapped of strength to put up a fight any longer.

[Althea]

Althea Annabelle Courcell. She’s tiny, and feminine in every way imaginable. It’s almost astounding to think that she’d managed to get herself a position like this within the castle. Sure, she was just a simplistic sous chef, but even the best of cooks needed assistance with boiling water, and setting up mise en place; the simplistic preparation of ingredients for a dish. Everyone in the kitchen had someone below them, save the dish washer, and there was no shame to be found in her occupation.

Still, Althea knew she deserved better, though she was a woman. Ah, life presented one with many burdens, and breasts and a softness between the thighs seemed to be one of those. Even with an Empress ruling there was still this strange hint of sexism within the kitchen. Despite being sous chef the men treated her as something else entirely. She was no dish washer, and Althea refused to be treated as such. She’d been raised with spunk and vigor, and possessed quite the temper, to boot! Still, she’s small and it’s difficult to take such a woman seriously! Especially one as pretty as herself. With her impossibly light hair, and strange amber eyes.

Oh, she’s quick with a knife, too, impossibly so, with that sharp pressed blade mowing through pile after pile of what appears to be leafy greens; baby spinach, parsley and basil, all of this is hacked down into a lovely chiffonade; thin strips of whatever product she was currently hacking up, the edges barely bruising beneath the weight of her blade. It looked lovely on the plate. Sure, she can cube a potato like no one’s business but she’s sure that she wouldn’t do so well within combat.

She’s a woman, though, and that wouldn’t prove as much an issue as it would with perhaps men her age.

It’s not long before Althea is drawing her sauté pan from the heat and balancing it below her cutting board, the pan itself is filled with a number of things, though simplistic in flavor. At the bottom lays a small pinch of pepper floating atop a shimmering pool of oil. Heated just enough to wilt and moisten the greens, rather than simply fry them. Althea dumps the chiffonade into that pan before over-turning such with a simplistic wooden spoon, slickening the leaves with the warmed oil and spice mixture. She lays this pan onto her cutting board, allowing it a passing moment to cool down a slight. While she constructs the rest of the plate.

It’s a bed of thick, and ribbon like pasta within a saucer, and then a pool of warm, and creamy sauce, and finally that finely sliced chiffonade. Men didn’t normally ear as such, but it’s not as if the guards had much a choice in their meals, at least not when Miss Courcel was within the kitchen.

She wasn’t sure why but Althea made the decision to bring those plates down to the front gates. Sure, they had waiters and servants, and the like to tote nigh everything to and fro within that large palace. Perhaps Althea was simply proud of what she’d made. Sure, it wasn’t the most masculine of dishes, and those morons out front would more than likely berate her for bringing about such a dish, though they’d devour it nonetheless without even so much as a thank you, or a grunt of approval. Not that Althea needed that to tell her she was a good chef.

It was a long walk, well, relatively long with a tray balanced between those tiny hands of hers, with Althea skipping over Camille’s cat - she always seemed to be underfoot.

Instead of being met with ungrateful men, she’s greeted with, well, ungrateful men roughing up someone who more than likely didn’t so much deserve it! Those pretty amber eyes of hers grow wide, impossibly so. She’d not been expecting this, and still, Althea finds herself bending to settle down that tray with stacked plates of food.

“Hey! Pissants!” Althea nigh screams, taking those stairs downwards and towards the bustle before everything comes to what seems like ab abrupt halt with this foreign looking man’s face close to the floor, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she questions with a lift to her brow, “What’s he done?” she demands thereafter, gesturing broadly to the display upon the floor.

[Angra Mainyu]

“Alright, restrain him. I don't care what you have to do, you make sure that his feet and hands are restrained, were not taking any chances with this one,” the guard ordered, still standing on the steps with a cocky grin. What Angra would do too take that smug look off of his face. Giving no resistance as they tied his limbs, Angra let out a low sigh. All this cause he was hungry, things were definitely much different from outside of his village. A village that one takes care of another, where everyone brings food for everyone else. With a rather distant expression Angra stared off into space, feeling the skin of his wrist and ankles to gently tear. Another guard was conversing with the man who was upon the steps when they saw Althea coming with their meals. Grinning the man who was barking orders looked to his friend, speaking with in a condescending tone. “Oh great, here comes miss attitude. Wonder what kind of garbage she has for us to eat today.”The two guards laughed as they watched her go bug eye at the scene before her. When she began to scream Angra was lead away from his thoughts, looking up to try and get a look at who was here. Seeing her he wondered if this was the Empress everyone spoke of. Being lifted to his feet three guards began to drag him towards in the inside of the palace. “He as hunted the Empress' game and as everyone know the punishment is left to the guards too decide. Well two of are guards decided they would rough him up when he began to resist and... well things got out of hand. So it took extreme measures.”

“By things got out of hand you mean I was kicking your asses before you called your friends,” Angra said with a smirk, receiving a blow to the stomach from a guard who took the statement offensive. Though he grunted and buckled some his smirk did not falter.

“Stand back woman, he is a dangerous. Why don't you go back into the palace and cook or something else useless that you know how to do, leave these concerns to us men,” the guard stated in an condescending manor, grinning as other guards began to join in with him. Narrowing his eyes slightly at the man, the left side of Angra's lip twitched with anger. One thing Angra couldn't stand was when someone was ungrateful, epically to a woman. He also could come to the conclusion that this woman was not the Empress, surely a man would be sentenced to something horrible if he were to talk to his Empress in such a manor. As they got to the bottom flight of the steps Angra's body started to tense all over like earlier, veins starting to pop out in various places. Starting to squeeze his arms against his side the two guards that held his arms started to moan in pain, their moans starting to slowly become screams. Now struggling to get out of Angra's grasp a guard approached the three of them. Using the guard's arms he lifted himself off the ground and dropped kick the man in the face, planting his feet firmly on the ground and releasing the two guards, both of them holding their arms and backing away. This was in no way a attempt to escape, their was no way in hell. Hopping so that he was facing the palace he looked at the guard who had been barking orders, and being so condescending as if he was hot stuff. Leaping forward he connected the top of his head into the mans mouth, landing on the step that he was once standing on. Watching him hold his mouth on the ground he spoke in a very low and menacing tone.

“Show some respect to the lady, ingrate.” Grinning as he spotted one of the guards teeth laying on the ground, two guards tackled Angra to the ground, the guard that he had addressed slowly getting up. His left front tooth was now badly chipped and the right one was no longer there. Getting very red in the face he screamed at the top of his lungs, pointing towards the inside of the palace.

“Take Him Away!!!!!” Trying to stop the bleeding in his mouth, four guards came to Angra and lifted him off the ground, dragging him up the stairs. Stopping them before they could get any farther the guard who Angra head butted delivered a punch to Angra's face as hard as he could muster, trembling slightly with anger. Slowly lifting his head up Angra still had his grin, blowing a kiss to the guard in a cocky and condescending manor. Growling again he kicked Angra in the stomach before stepping aside to let them pass.

“Watch your back, Sweet cheeks! I'm coming for you!” Angra yelled as he was being drug into the palace, laughing with actual amusement from the guards strikes. He wasn't exactly sure how just yet but he would escape this place, he'd be damned if he dies over killing a deer. If he would have just went with the first two guards he probably could have avoided much grief but than again Angra had to much pride to just roll over; besides, he had a certain predilection for the art of battle.

[Althea]

Althea should truly be more use to scenes like this about the castle. It truly seemed that someone was always out for what the empress claimed as her own. And Althea couldn’t so much blame them. She’d taken damn near everything the people could call their own, and perhaps even moreso.

There were people on the streets. People her age, that she’d attended school with, and played kick-ball with. People who’d owned businesses when she was younger. Businesses which Camille seemed eager to likewise snatch away from her people. Althea saw the wrong in this, and still, she was forced to side with this wicked woman, not only that but Althea worked directly for her. Salt in the wound, so to speak.

Somehow she finds calm in this situation. The spunky Miss Courcel wasn’t raising her voice, or tossing insults as she may have normally. Okay, maybe she wasn’t exactly calm, per se. She was seething. Damn pissed in that moment. How dare he insult her cooking? She’d forgotten the pummeling of this man for a short moment. Althea knew damn well she was a decent chef. She had papers and a jacket to prove such! “You may think my food tastes like shit, but it’s because your tongue’s been brined by all that piss you’re swilling on the job,” Althea returns. Oh, sure, they were guards, of the incompetent variety. They drank on the steps of the castle.

Not that Althea could blame them. As far as she was concerned they did nothing, and drinking was clearly a space-filler.

But this time they had done something. It was truly remarkable, actually. And Althea had never seen these guards toss about more than they had this morning.

“I’ll see you in the dungeon!” Althea counters towards that strange, and rebellious creature, “Fuck knows I’ll be the one making your food.” she muses, slender arms folding across her thin chest. It’s then her gaze falls downwards and toward the tray of food she’d set out for the guards before having been distracted by the squabble occurring just down the steps, “In fact,” she continues onwards, stooping to pluck up that tray, “I’ll just bring you the guards’ food, since they don’t appreciate it.”

Althea was being paid to feed those asses, but she felt in no way obligated to feed them. Especially on days when they weren’t especially kind towards her cooking. This was one of those days.

“The lot of you can find some other shit to eat,” Althea instructs, turning sharp on her heel so she may march along the hallway and towards what could easily be considered the dungeon Only not so much. It was a temporary holding pen for those trouble makers, like this foreign looking man. There was the bare minimum; cells, and a small number of shackles.

From this area prisoners were almost always transferred onwards, and to a more adequate holding pen before the most unjust of trials could be held.

“I’ll see you down there, Lover-boy,” Althea calls back, lifting a hand to wiggle her fingers at this trouble-maker before continuing onwards, and down the hallway where she’d encountered empress Camille’s cat simply moments ago. Oh, what a strange turn her morning seemed to be taking.

[Angra Mainyu]

Laughing with a smug smirk still painted on his features his eyes scanned all that they could see in the sections of the palace that he was being drug through. Having a photographic memory it would be useful, should he be in the situation that he actually manage to get out of this, to know a little bit of where he was going. Hearing the woman speak to him his smirk widened some, at least he would have a visitor. Groaning a bit his stomach quivered and protested with hunger, demanding to receive food. Through all the excitement of his morning he had forgotten how long it had been since he had something to eat. Trying to keep his mind off of his hunger he continued to examine what he saw of the castle. Though he detested the woman, he couldn't help but appreciate the décor of the inside of her palace. She may be a vindictive women with many scurrilous plans but at least she had a good fashion sense. Being drug into his new home for a while the guards roughly dropped him on his rear near the shackles, pulling him to his knees so they could start shackling his hands and feet to the wall. They began to walk away and Angra got an angered expression, spitting venom in his words. “Aren't you going to cut the rope that bounds my limps, I shackled to the wall for Christs sake! Where am I going?!”

“Silent trash,” the guard spat, the rest walking out as he stayed behind. “Your limps will stayed tied and you will remained shackle until a more appropriate punishment for you actions today is decided.” Turning away he slammed the bars behind him and went strolling off with his comrades. Staring at the door Angra couldn't help but comment to himself, trying to reposition himself to a more comfortable position, or at least as comfortable as he could get.

“When I get out of here, I'm breaking his face.” Examining the room around him he began to silently formulate plans in his own minds. He knew he didn't have the strength to do anything, he would need to eat and gather energy again, that is if the woman before isn't instructed to let Angra starve. He would have sat down but because of the ropes binding his feet he couldn't get proper leverage, not to mention that the shackles they bounded him with didn't come to terribly far away from the wall. For a moment his thoughts lingered on what might happened if he got out of this sell and managed to get to the Empress. Perhaps make an 'accident' to end her life. But he knew this would solve nothing, they would just find someone else to step up to the throne that is just as cold and ruthless. Banishing this plan from his mind he lowered his head and let his eyes shut. Letting out a soft sigh he relaxed himself much as he could managed, having a very thoughtful facial expression. He certainly found the excitement he was looking for once he left home. Even though he has gotten in a few brawls, been hungry, and thrown in a dungeon since he has gotten to this city he had to admit this was the most fun he's had in a long time. One thing that he found amusing was that quite a few people, probably a lot more than a few, would much rather prefer the simple life he left behind. Well in his opinion, they could have it. He was done spending his days training for a threat that would never come. He was ready for action, hence why he threw himself into this war. Opening his eyes he side and leaned back against the wall behind him, trying to position his tied arms to get more comfortable, the only sound in his cell that of his growling stomach.

[Althea]

“Suck a cock,” Althea advises those guards upon their exit of the holding chamber.

Those tiny hands of hers are still gripping upon the ledge of that tray. She’s almost certain one of them was about to dump that tray upon the swell of her chest, though they thought better. After all, Althea wasn’t afraid to withhold food from those assholes. She’d done it before, and she was doing it right damn now. Any time they insulted her cooking, they could bet they weren’t about to receive any sort of meal the next day around.

“I’d chose your words better the next time around,” she advises thereafter. Though Althea wasn’t about to stuck around long enough to listen to what these brutes had to say in retort, as she was turning her back to them, and sauntering into the confines of that holding chamber. She’s eager to nudge that heavy door closed behind her.

Oh, now Althea’s no moron, she knows that this could be quite the mistake. It was completely plausible that this strange man could kick his legs up about her pretty little head and simply snap her neck. Although Althea hadn’t done anything to this young man. She hadn’t been the one wrestling him to the ground, all over a piece of what was allegedly Camille’s game. Althea isn’t fearless, or anything of the sort, but she did have, well, lady balls.

Althea had been raised by a rough man, and was responsible for taking care of her father, and her own meals. Her father, while respectable, most certainly not the most graceful of men. He was rough and tumble, having held a job within Idola for as long as little Miss Courcel could remember! She’d heard tales of his workplace. Tales ladened with curse words and stories of the occasional fist fight.

“You should never be afraid to stand up for what you think is right,” he’d advised her, and it’s something that the young woman adhered to wholly, and for the entirety of her life. It’s what had brought her here, and into the confines of this barbaric holding pen. Althea believed that a man shouldn’t be punished simply for seeking food, and he definitely shouldn’t be beaten for such, albeit as far as she knew the fight had come about on this man’s own accord, though it didn’t so much matter. A fight wouldn’t have broken out had the guards not gotten in the way.

Her face tips to peer upon this man nigh dangling from the wall, “They did quite the number on you, huh?” she questions with the vaguest of grins. Once more, Althea finds herself stooping to lay down that tray once more. Her fingers comb through her hair to slip one of those useless pins from place.

Althea truly is a remarkable young blonde. Well, not so much blonde as her hair was a stark white, there’s truly no way to describe it, nor any way to tell how it had become such a way, not even Miss Courcel recalled such a change in her being, or even if there was a change. For all she knew she’d been born with such.

Either way, Althea’s tiny form is pressing close. She smells of all things within the kitchen, spices and herbs. That pin is violating the lock of those cuffs, popping such undone with relative ease.

“I brought you their food,” Althea invites with a tip to her head, once more indicating that tray. She finds herself drawing toward that doorway to peek out, “Since you’ve so much time on your hands I expect that game within my kitchen and cleaned by the time I get back,” she instructs the two men standing sentry, “I recommend getting a move on, since none of you know how to execute such proper,”

Althea closes that door once more, small hands lifting to draw those buttons of her jacket open, exposing a border line slinky dress. Working within a kitchen, in a chef’s coat, one didn’t need much insulation, there was more than enough compensation within her warm work environment.

[Angra Mainyu]

Angra watched the woman with a curiosity, wondering what exactly she hoped to happen by helping him. Perhaps she just didn't approve of the treatment Angra received, though working under the Empress, not truly approving of all her methods and laws. In all honesty Angra wasn't entirely sure of what to make of this situation at the present moment, watching the guards exit while the woman gave her remarks of what she thought of him. He could see that this wasn't the first time that she had to deal with these men and their remarks and actions. Actually, giving her duties, the number of times a day she had to deal with them was probably an considerable amount of times.

When he was addressed he looked her in they eyes, grinning at her remark. Watching her set the tray down he spoke in a charming yet cocky manor. “Well, you didn't get to see the beginning of the fight. I assure you that a few of those guards have broken and fractured bones, they just don't know it yet.” Angra grinned, continuing with a amused smirk. “They'll fell it tomorrow when certain parts of their anatomy are swelled twice its original size.” Smiling to himself at the thought he took in a small whiff of her scent, finding it to be rather pleasurable. His own scent consisted of herbal remedies and incense made to smell like fresh water springs and such things like that. Hearing the cuffs pop open he nodded to her comment, more than happy to woof down the guards meals. “Thanks.”

Tensing slightly he easily broke the ropes that bound his wrists, showing that he could have most likely had done the same earlier but for some reason choose not to. Untying his feet he pulled a tray to him, looking to the delicate array of exquisite foods. It was ashame that she put effort into this dish for those pathetic excuses for men, than again he figured the effort wasn't really for them, just that her passion for cooking brought her to put this effort into it. Starting to dig in without any regard for manners, being that he was to the brink of starving, his approval of her cooking was clearly stated by his little moans of delight at the taste of her food; one probably surprised that he could taste it because of how fast he was eating.

Hearing the door shut once again he slowed his eating, taking some time to enjoy the food now that his stomach wasn't growling at him. Sitting Indian style he set the tray on his lap and leaned against the wall behind him, looking to the woman with a smile now. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Angra Mainyu, I come from a place far from here. Which is why I was unaware that hunting in those forests were against the law, guess I found out quick when I was blind-sided from behind. Now may I be so bold as to inquire what your name is? I must say, this food is some of the best I have ever eaten and I truly don't say that because I am starving.”

[Althea]

What did Althea gain from assisting such a ruffian? Well, truth be told, she’d nothing to gain from such a thing. He was just someone who happened to get in the way of what could be considered her routine.

Althea cooks, Althea plates, Althea brings food out to those ungrateful guards. More often than not she;s harassed in one way or another, and thereafter she returns to her kitchen nigh seething. This was a daily ritual. Something Miss Courcel nigh hated, and still it occurred without fail. That was, until today rolled around, and it’d just been too much to handle. It could easily have been considered Althea’s snapping point. She simply couldn’t have taken any more of that mouthing - especially not in front of some outsider.

Perhaps she was grateful for this man for giving her harassers the what-for. Though Althea was truly no victim, she was a self-sufficient young woman who would have taken care of those asses eventually.

“You know, you’re truly fucked,” Althea confesses with something which could easily be taken for a grin. It’s almost amusing, “It’s one thing to simply hunt from the Empress’ personal forests, but another thing completely to go through a scuffle with her own henchmen.” She takes the time to suck her tongue toward the roof of her mouth. Tsk-tsk-tsk, scolding how very rich coming from the trouble maker, and Hellion Miss Courcel was known to be. Still, she couldn’t quite help that smile upon her lips as she settles the warm line of her body back upon that chilled castle wall.

“Suppose you could consider that your last supper, of sorts,” she continues onwards with a crinkle to the bridge of her nose.

[Angra Mainyu]

Watching her ponder to herself he continued to eat the food, this actually being the first meal he had that was prepared in such a way, delighting his taste buds. When she finished speaking her first sentence to him he couldn't resist but to return the grin she wore, amused by her comment. Allowing her to speak uninterrupted he continued to eat at the food, nodding his head in agreement that he was in a sticky situation. Laughing slightly to her reaction he set the tray aside, having already eaten all the food off of it. Looking to her with the same grin, he spoke with a small trace of sarcasm in his voice. "You're right, looks like I'm finished. End of the line for me."

Looking away he let out a content sigh from the nourishment, already feeling some strength starting to return. But he wasn't so hasty to leave yet, he was hoping through this woman he could figure out some information as to an approximated time for his sentencing so he can know how much time he had left. Now making an averred statement, his eyes locked on the woman sitting in the cell with him. "Sorry to bereave anyone of their satisfaction to get, what they believe, what I have coming to me; I don't picture my end happening in this place." Now smirking in a cocky manor, Angra spoke with a matter-of-fact sort of sense. "In fact, I will be out of this place before the entire day comes to an end."

Though he did seem to have a cocky attitude towards things, he had a very strong certainty in his eyes, staring at the door now with a hard look. He knew it would be no easy task, would be no fun if it was easy, but he still was confident that he could manage to escape. Looking back to the woman, he chuckled a bit. "These guards are inexperienced in the art of fighting, relying on the power of their punch to get the job done. Where I come from a child, female or male, is trained in the art of fighting their entire life." He paused for a moment, trying to choose his next words carefully. "Not that I am asking you to assist me, but perhaps you have some sort of inquiry upon the time that they come to carry through with my punishment?"

[Althea]

Althea can’t help that broad smile spreading across her pretty features. She found mild amusement within this man’s flat tone, and blunt way of speaking. Was he done for? Well, truth be told, Althea had seen very few people manage their way out of this cramped sort of storage area. More often than not the majority of people got what the empress felt they had coming, and she’d very little compassion for any deemed as “unworthy” Idly Althea wonders what sort of fate the Rebel leader would meet - nothing too kind, she presumes. So is the way of the empress.

Whatever, though, it, in no way, was her problem. That young man wouldn’t be her problem, unless she played the way she was today - the sympathetic sous chef, she was. Hardly. Perhaps she would be though. She admired that young man - he had balls, so to speak, something which Althea clearly lacked, both mentally and physically. She was jealous of his gusto and his conviction. And despite her position within the empress’ palace, it wasn’t often Althea agreed with those decisions that the empress made. She was a horrid woman, as far as Miss Courcel was concerned.

“Yeah, where I come from no one gets away with poaching within the empress’ land,” Althea replies in a sweet sort of coo. Still, the confidence within his words shook Althea. Perhaps he could wiggle his way from within the confines of this cell, still althea doubted it. She shrugs, then, slender shoulders lifting in a slight wriggle to her tiny form, she’d no clue when those guards would escort this young man over to a more permanent holding cell, “They’ll be bringing you out of here…” Althea gives an elongated pause before issuing another one of those passive sort of shrugs, “Whenever they feel it fit,” she murmurs, “Empress Camille will probably never know you ever spent time here,” she murmurs, “You’re left to these morons’ devices,” she assures the young man with a definite sort of nod.

Those pretty golden eyes of hers flutter closed with a pleasant sort of smile, “I’ll be long gone by that time, though. I’d prefer not to get my own hands dirty, if it’s all the same to you!” she coos sweetly, soft shoulders settling back and toward the cool wall behind.