[ She sweeps down to the dungeons, practically radiating cold fury. The monks give her a wider berth than usual.
The cells beneath the Abbey stand empty, save for the one holding the boy. Maya isn't in the habit of keeping prisoners. She dismisses the single guard abruptly, and judging by the way he hurries off, he's glad to leave.
Once they're alone, Maya crouches by the bars to the boy's cell. The child in question is curled in a back corner, trying to quiet his sobs, but whatever bravery he possessed earlier seems to have left him. ]
There, there little one. There's no need to cry.
[ Her words should be reassuring, comforting, but there's a cold edge to her tone that betrays her intentions. After a moment, she seems to be bored with the act, and she waves her hand, tattoos flashing. The boy falters but doesn't quiet until Maya snaps, ] Stop crying and come here.
[ The response is immediate. The child quiets and gets up, almost mechanically, a strange look in his eyes. He moves to stand in front of where Maya is crouched. The look on her face turns wicked- not even the monks know she has this ability- and she reaches through the bars to caress the boy's cheek with her tattooed hand. He doesn't flinch, doesn't even blink. ]
Hello my little thief. Since Mister Quill here is so intent on my sparing you, I've decided to let you go. I want you to go back to your friends, I want you to tell them I've shown you mercy, and that stealing from the Order is wrong. Tell them you shouldn't have done it in the first place.
And then I want you to throw yourself from the top of the tallest building you can find.
Can you do that for me, little one?
[ The little boy nods once, which seems to be enough for the Siren. She waves him back to his corner and he goes.
Maya rises to her feet, turning to glare at Peter, fire in her gaze. ] Don't try me again, Quill.
[ with that, she sweeps out of the dungeon, not caring if he follows ]
[ He's-- pleasantly surprised, at first, despite that weird display with her tattoos, that coldness in her voice. Maybe she can be reasoned with, after all -- well, in a manner of speaking. Apparently reasoning with her also invovles getting thrown around like a fucking baseball, but if that's what it takes for her to be a decent fucking person, then-- okay. Peter can deal with that. He's a resilient guy.
But then she gives her final command, and something ice cold plummets in his gut, and he nearly misses the way she glares at him, the way she threatens him.
She may not care if Peter follows after her, but follow he does, and at a run, even. ]
What the hell was that? That was-- that was a fucking joke, right? You didn't actually-- he's not actually going to kill himself, is he?
Is this a battle you want to keep fighting? Because I could take your mind from you right now and that would be the end of it. I'd tell you to march down there and shoot him yourself, and you would do it. You wouldn't have any choice.
[ And to think, for a while there, he really thought she was capable of acting like a rational human being. He also thought he was to old to be naive, but apparently he's wrong on both counts.
Apparently being treated like a fucking goddess for her entire life has made the Siren incapable of seeing reason. Who would've thought? And now she apparently has fucking mind control, which he didn't think was possible. What the hell else is she hiding?
Well. Peter doesn't really care. All he knows is he's getting his ass off this planet the first chance he gets. ]
[ Maya isn’t so foolish as to think that Peter will actually want to stick around after that display, so she has him watched- from a distance, of course. The thought crosses her mind more than once that she could just let the mercenary go. After all, what does Peter Quill have that anyone else couldn’t offer her?
Again, that’s a question she’s not sure she wants an answer to. But at this juncture, he’s seen too much, and while anyone on Athenas would probably be quick to dismiss any claims he made that she could control minds as wild rumors (in fact, she wouldn’t be surprised if there already was such a rumor out there), she’s not sure who else is out there that he could go running to.
At least, that’s what she tells herself, but there’s a part of her that knows she’s clinging to him like a selfish child would a toy.
So, several days later, when one of her guards comes to her and tells her that Peter has slipped out of the Abbey, she launches a full-scale search for him. He couldn’t have gotten far, considering the Order commandeered his ship when he’d first landed several months back. While her warriors and soldiers are out scouring around for him, that’s where the Siren heads- the little hangar where they’ve kept his things. One way or another, he’s going to make it back here- either by his wits and dumb luck, or captured and bound. ]
Peter manages to slip past the guards to get out of that fucking Abbey -- it's pretty much Thievery 101, being able to sneak around without being seen. Once he's out, he doesn't expect to be stopped, but neither is he so brazen as to publicize the fact that he wasn't meant to be out by his onesies. Still, the hardest part was leaving, but with that done, who gives a shit, right? After all, what would the Siren care if he left? He's nothing to her except a punching bag and a meat shield, and she has more than enough of those at her disposal.
... Except not even a half hour later, he notices there are more guards and warriors patrolling the area than was ever normal before, and he has the sudden realization that they're looking for him. Jesus fucking Christ, is this woman for real? She really wants to keep him on a tight leash, apparently, and he has no fucking clue why -- especially since she'd recently made it clear that he was an annoyance and a sack of crap to her.
But the guards are easy enough to avoid; their movements and tactics are predictable, and Peter's used to avoiding the authorities, has been well-versed in utilizing alleys and dark corners since he was orphaned at nine-years-old. He slips past all of them again and finds himself at the hangar.
In a different world, Peter would have been gifted his ship after years of improvement and hard work, after showing himself capable of being up to no good. In this world, Peter stole his ship -- and it was, in fact, the best thing he had ever stolen for himself ever. It's a small thing, orange and blue and silver, meant more for short jaunts than intergalactic travel, but he modded the hell out of his baby, made it spaceworthy and his. He grins for the first time in a long while when he spots his ship, relieved they hadn't dismantled it for parts, and after a careful glance around the hangar, he darts toward it.
Maya steps out from behind the vessel when she hears his footfalls sprinting across the floor, her hand comes up and FSHOOM, Peter will once again find himself suspended in her phaselock.
She doesn't fling him across the room this time, at least? ]
As vulnerable as he is like this, as much power as the Siren has at her disposal, he still imbues his gaze and his voice with as much vitriol as he can. ]
Was it not obvious? I'm getting the fuck out of here.
[ This literally isn't getting him anywhere, so he takes a deep breath to calm himself. And then he counts to five. And then he does it again. ]
Look. You obviously don't like me, and you obviously don't like the fact that I am calling you on some clearly deeply-ingrained shit. So why not get rid of two birds with one stone, huh? Just let me go. I'll get out of your hair, and you can go back to ruling your little planet, and we can both be the happier for it.
[ She actually hesitates for a moment, because he's saying exactly what she's been thinking, and not for the first time she wonders why she doesn't just kill him or let him go and be done with it.
Because she wants him to stay, but all she knows is death and destruction. She doesn't know how to keep things that don't bend to her will and simper and beg for her forgiveness without breaking them. ]
If I can't persuade you to stay on your own terms, I can always make you stay.
[ That actually makes a chill go through his blood, but he tries as best as he can to keep calm. If he loses his shit again, she'll lose hers, and her angry-gun is a lot more powerful than his. ]
Why do you even want me here? You obviously-- [ No. Don't presume. She doesn't like that. ] --I mean, seems to me you hate my guts.
[ There's that hesitation again, and her fingers flex minutely, like she's considering throwing him across the room again. God damn it, she's such a mess and it's driving her crazy. ]
I don't--- Stop it. Stop questioning me.
[ and unfortunately, she does throw him. Right into the hull of his own ship ]
He slams into the unyielding metal with a choked-off cry, and when he falls to the ground he just-- lies there, breathing through the ache. His bruises from their last bout still haven't healed up, despite his near constant icing, so aggravating them all over again? Not fun.
Eventually he pushes himself up, sits back against his ship. When he speaks, he's equal parts angry and tired. ]
I don't know. [ It comes out angry and sudden, and for a moment she actually looks shocked at herself. But the anger sweeps back in, shoving her surprise aside ]
You've always been an annoyance, but at least you did your job. And now one little boy has you questioning my every move, and it's infuriating. I should want you dead. I should have killed you the moment you spoke out of turn, but I didn't and I don't know why.
[ He licks his lips as he watches her carefully -- her temper has alawys been short, little more than a rubberband ready to snap, and they're quickly approaching that point, he thinks. Even her displays of power by flinging him into his ship was just par for the course, as far as Peter was concerned.
The Siren always seems so sure of her every move. Even when she makes fucked up decisions, she at least seems to be set in them. This, though, with her freely admitting she doesn't know why she's kept him alive, is dangerous new territory. ]
Maybe-- [ He says it too softly, at first, then clears his throat and tries again; he does his best to keep his voice level and calm. ] Maybe-- you're tired of people sucking up to you. I don't know. Maybe you want someone around who will tell you when it's wrong to kill a little kid.
[ She stares at him for a moment longer, expression softening by degrees. Is that the answer to this? Maybe. She doesn't know, she's still not sure she wants to know, but it seems to have struck a chord regardless.
For the briefest of seconds, she looks tired, but then she's turning away ]
Get up, Quill. [ her tone is firm, but quiet. The heat of her anger is long gone ] I'm not paying you to sit around.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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The cells beneath the Abbey stand empty, save for the one holding the boy. Maya isn't in the habit of keeping prisoners. She dismisses the single guard abruptly, and judging by the way he hurries off, he's glad to leave.
Once they're alone, Maya crouches by the bars to the boy's cell. The child in question is curled in a back corner, trying to quiet his sobs, but whatever bravery he possessed earlier seems to have left him. ]
There, there little one. There's no need to cry.
[ Her words should be reassuring, comforting, but there's a cold edge to her tone that betrays her intentions. After a moment, she seems to be bored with the act, and she waves her hand, tattoos flashing. The boy falters but doesn't quiet until Maya snaps, ] Stop crying and come here.
[ The response is immediate. The child quiets and gets up, almost mechanically, a strange look in his eyes. He moves to stand in front of where Maya is crouched. The look on her face turns wicked- not even the monks know she has this ability- and she reaches through the bars to caress the boy's cheek with her tattooed hand. He doesn't flinch, doesn't even blink. ]
Hello my little thief. Since Mister Quill here is so intent on my sparing you, I've decided to let you go. I want you to go back to your friends, I want you to tell them I've shown you mercy, and that stealing from the Order is wrong. Tell them you shouldn't have done it in the first place.
And then I want you to throw yourself from the top of the tallest building you can find.
Can you do that for me, little one?
[ The little boy nods once, which seems to be enough for the Siren. She waves him back to his corner and he goes.
Maya rises to her feet, turning to glare at Peter, fire in her gaze. ] Don't try me again, Quill.
[ with that, she sweeps out of the dungeon, not caring if he follows ]
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But then she gives her final command, and something ice cold plummets in his gut, and he nearly misses the way she glares at him, the way she threatens him.
She may not care if Peter follows after her, but follow he does, and at a run, even. ]
What the hell was that? That was-- that was a fucking joke, right? You didn't actually-- he's not actually going to kill himself, is he?
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He'll do whatever I tell him to.
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You can't do this. He's just a fucking kid.
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Reluctantly, he steps aside, jaw clenched and anger clawing up his throat like bile. ]
You're a fucking monster.
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[ she sounds almost smug, now that she's put him in his place ]
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Apparently being treated like a fucking goddess for her entire life has made the Siren incapable of seeing reason. Who would've thought? And now she apparently has fucking mind control, which he didn't think was possible. What the hell else is she hiding?
Well. Peter doesn't really care. All he knows is he's getting his ass off this planet the first chance he gets. ]
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Again, that’s a question she’s not sure she wants an answer to. But at this juncture, he’s seen too much, and while anyone on Athenas would probably be quick to dismiss any claims he made that she could control minds as wild rumors (in fact, she wouldn’t be surprised if there already was such a rumor out there), she’s not sure who else is out there that he could go running to.
At least, that’s what she tells herself, but there’s a part of her that knows she’s clinging to him like a selfish child would a toy.
So, several days later, when one of her guards comes to her and tells her that Peter has slipped out of the Abbey, she launches a full-scale search for him. He couldn’t have gotten far, considering the Order commandeered his ship when he’d first landed several months back. While her warriors and soldiers are out scouring around for him, that’s where the Siren heads- the little hangar where they’ve kept his things. One way or another, he’s going to make it back here- either by his wits and dumb luck, or captured and bound. ]
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Peter manages to slip past the guards to get out of that fucking Abbey -- it's pretty much Thievery 101, being able to sneak around without being seen. Once he's out, he doesn't expect to be stopped, but neither is he so brazen as to publicize the fact that he wasn't meant to be out by his onesies. Still, the hardest part was leaving, but with that done, who gives a shit, right? After all, what would the Siren care if he left? He's nothing to her except a punching bag and a meat shield, and she has more than enough of those at her disposal.
... Except not even a half hour later, he notices there are more guards and warriors patrolling the area than was ever normal before, and he has the sudden realization that they're looking for him. Jesus fucking Christ, is this woman for real? She really wants to keep him on a tight leash, apparently, and he has no fucking clue why -- especially since she'd recently made it clear that he was an annoyance and a sack of crap to her.
But the guards are easy enough to avoid; their movements and tactics are predictable, and Peter's used to avoiding the authorities, has been well-versed in utilizing alleys and dark corners since he was orphaned at nine-years-old. He slips past all of them again and finds himself at the hangar.
In a different world, Peter would have been gifted his ship after years of improvement and hard work, after showing himself capable of being up to no good. In this world, Peter stole his ship -- and it was, in fact, the best thing he had ever stolen for himself ever. It's a small thing, orange and blue and silver, meant more for short jaunts than intergalactic travel, but he modded the hell out of his baby, made it spaceworthy and his. He grins for the first time in a long while when he spots his ship, relieved they hadn't dismantled it for parts, and after a careful glance around the hangar, he darts toward it.
Almost homefree. ]
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Maya steps out from behind the vessel when she hears his footfalls sprinting across the floor, her hand comes up and FSHOOM, Peter will once again find himself suspended in her phaselock.
She doesn't fling him across the room this time, at least? ]
Going somewhere, Mister Quill?
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As vulnerable as he is like this, as much power as the Siren has at her disposal, he still imbues his gaze and his voice with as much vitriol as he can. ]
Was it not obvious? I'm getting the fuck out of here.
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You need a shitton of fucking therapy, lady.
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Look. You obviously don't like me, and you obviously don't like the fact that I am calling you on some clearly deeply-ingrained shit. So why not get rid of two birds with one stone, huh? Just let me go. I'll get out of your hair, and you can go back to ruling your little planet, and we can both be the happier for it.
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Because she wants him to stay, but all she knows is death and destruction. She doesn't know how to keep things that don't bend to her will and simper and beg for her forgiveness without breaking them. ]
If I can't persuade you to stay on your own terms, I can always make you stay.
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Why do you even want me here? You obviously-- [ No. Don't presume. She doesn't like that. ] --I mean, seems to me you hate my guts.
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I don't--- Stop it. Stop questioning me.
[ and unfortunately, she does throw him. Right into the hull of his own ship ]
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He slams into the unyielding metal with a choked-off cry, and when he falls to the ground he just-- lies there, breathing through the ache. His bruises from their last bout still haven't healed up, despite his near constant icing, so aggravating them all over again? Not fun.
Eventually he pushes himself up, sits back against his ship. When he speaks, he's equal parts angry and tired. ]
What the hell do you even want from me?
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You've always been an annoyance, but at least you did your job. And now one little boy has you questioning my every move, and it's infuriating. I should want you dead. I should have killed you the moment you spoke out of turn, but I didn't and I don't know why.
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The Siren always seems so sure of her every move. Even when she makes fucked up decisions, she at least seems to be set in them. This, though, with her freely admitting she doesn't know why she's kept him alive, is dangerous new territory. ]
Maybe-- [ He says it too softly, at first, then clears his throat and tries again; he does his best to keep his voice level and calm. ] Maybe-- you're tired of people sucking up to you. I don't know. Maybe you want someone around who will tell you when it's wrong to kill a little kid.
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For the briefest of seconds, she looks tired, but then she's turning away ]
Get up, Quill. [ her tone is firm, but quiet. The heat of her anger is long gone ] I'm not paying you to sit around.
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