It had been minutes since her victorious grand reveal. Her delivery was excellent. She felt that she really nailed that landing. She just had really expected more to come from it.

The scared-looking man-eating man didn't do anything. Just kept sitting on the bed, with his back to the headboard. His face was blank and pale. He wasn't breathing.

Every minute that passed made her victory rush less and less. It flowed out of her like a low tide, just leaving the dirty beach behind.

He wasn't going to fight her.

Dang. She came on too strong. Should have let him think she was weak up until he started melting on her ward. At least then she would have passively broken the pacifist streak and it wouldn't be hanging over her head anymore.

It started out as a point of pride, but now it seemed kind of like an albatross. She was happy with the knowledge that she wasn't causing harm to anyone, hadn't caused harm to anyone either, but maybe she should have landed here swinging. That way, instead of seeing a harmless little forest fairy or a weak little girl when anyone looked at her, they'd be aware of her claws.

It didn't matter. Not now. At this point, after fully committing to bloodshed and coming up wanting, she was beginning to think the pacifist streak might never break.

Max vacillated between being both a little relieved she didn't have to figuratively push this guy's shit in establishing dominance in their little interpersonal hierarchy, and massively disappointed she didn't get to test all the gains she got from being stupidly OP on this stupid planet full of obviously stupid people. Being powerful but never getting to flex said power was hard -- but she could see how it might be the trap she usually hated gods and systems for falling into. Maybe she should just chill the heck out.

She took a moment to breathe when her prisoner continued to not react.

And what was up with the uncontrollable battle frenzy she almost fell into? She had experienced being a [Berserker] a few times, and it was a little like that, but this rage had more of a zealous quality. More sinister. More personal. Maybe she should take time to finally run through the god status sheet and check it for changes. Maybe. Possibly.

Miles was on the same cycle of relief and disappointment, if not leaning much further one way over the other-- he still had yet to live-fire his disintegration beams at anyone, and they spent so much time lovingly crafting them in a dank cave on a dead planet, solely for situations just like this one. He really wanted to test the beam's effects on the meat of a 'monster.' They had only been calibrated for average flesh-bags. Data, as always, begged to be gathered.

For minutes and minutes after the conversational grand reveal, the caged monster silently lay in his bed like a pretty princess-- unmoving, unblinking, clammed up, and in her mind, as if he were sulking. Or scheming. Eventually, color returned to his lips and then his face. He did a few long blinks but still didn't move.

Unexpectedly, he didn't give a grand villain monologue (Max hadn't heard one in a while, and wistfully wanted a refresher, solely for the nostalgia value), he didn't threaten that he would have people or gods or family looking for him to avenge him as a hero would, and he didn't continue the unsettling tapping of his finger to the beat of her heart.

It was a little underwhelming. He just kinda laid there and stared at her. Not fighting. Not yelling to the heavens. Not summoning from the hells. No vows for vengeance. Just laid there.

Well.

Max was used to any and all interactions with most "important and powerful" people (like Convlave heads) to be dramatic and over-the-top. She had spent unknowable years and countless iterations working through hero/villain cycles. She guessed she was trained, in a way, to expect them. With it not happening now, she kind of felt adrift. Usually, the villain's monologue or the hero's rousing speech reinforced her role and gave her a status update on her overall performance.

But she wasn't fulfilling a role here; she was just a person, he was just some guy who unknowingly broke an antiquated law, even if he was chasing an innocent --even if he sucked down blood-- and so he was justly imprisoned for it. No big, right? Just some guy.

He wasn't a villain. Or a hero. Wasn't really that scary of a monster. Just a dude.

She sighed. Now it was just awkward.

She stood at the ward and wilted. She was at a loss. She turned her face to look out of a window, to the forest she had grown in about two hours. She had to remind herself that this whole project with this world and Miles was her chance at 'real,' but she was having a hard time not falling back into what she had spent so many lives and deaths running from. Even if it only offered the comfort of knowing what was coming next.

"Ahem. Well." Her eyes went to Miles. "That was... whatever. Disappointing. But we have a schedule to keep if he isn't going to put up a fight," Max said, urging Miles to help her pack up and leave. He stopped hiding in the corner of the room, camouflaged as a wall sconce, and crawled across the desk to climb up her back.

The princess gasped at Miles's appearance, but it didn't matter. He didn’t matter.

Miles wrapped himself around her neck and started impatiently tapping her like a timer. Apparently, her tiny but beautiful slave-driver took it as his personal mission to keep her chugging along in completing the complicated and sometimes convoluted steps of The Plan™️.

The updated Plan™️ now called for Hugo's surgery tomorrow, with all the recovery time and healing slated to last a week. And then Max, Puppy, and Miles would start training with him an hour a day, which was exciting for the trio of current court Heavies. One more on the team! But for that to happen, all the final runes had to be etched on the pieces tonight so his cybernetics would be ready, bright and early.

After completing the runes --and giving Hugo time to adjust and Miles time to make adjustments-- Miles wanted to start on his grand plans to accelerate the court's basic level of tech they worked with every day. Smart devices, satellites, and his webbed-but-wireless version of a cybernetic noosphere information highway that was accessible by conscious thought to all who had the right implant/blessing combinations. He also wanted to develop for the elves a system of musculoskeletal implants to increase their casting and reaction time. He wanted to see if they could somehow stretch mana channels faster than cultivation naturally develops them by infusing them with alchemically treated wires and implanting them in the limbs. Kinda like magnets stretch out wires, the wires would stretch out the mana channel's circulation abilities.

Mad scientist stuff, but Hugo was game and Miles had plans. Who was she to stop the two? And it would only be beneficial if her court were staggeringly techno-magically superior to the rest of the world. The cities, countries, and people of the world would all threaten her in time, come after her with demands, and she would have to tell them to eat dicks. But she'd rather tell them to consume penis while on the high ground, with her pockets full of infinite mana, and with orbital bombardment capabilities.

Maybe she’d launch a mission to plant a tree circle on the moon. If she put werewolves up there, would they always be shifted? Are werewolves a thing, or are they all just shifters? Did the moon actually even do things to them, or were they just on a thirty-day cycle that correlated to the lunar cycle?

Ugh. She was tired and her mind was a mess.

Max wasn't looking forward to another sleepless night, but she could deal with it. She'd just try to clear the fatigue toxins from her body and chug a massive pot of coffee from the shop next door to her failed business venture.

"Okay." She clapped her hands on her thighs. Dismissed the blood-drinking princess as the non-entity he was. She gathered her notes and plans --for real this time-- and started putting them in her system's storage. Pointedly ignored her captive's gasp when he saw her use it. He refused to talk, refused to fight, and refused to bargain question for a question. She didn't owe him answers or explanations. Fuck him.

Ugh. I should at least not be a dick about victory. It looked like I scared him half to death. Fine.

She sighed hard at herself for being a bleeding heart. A pushover. Ugh. She pulled a lunchbox out of her storage that had four ham and cheese sandwiches with the kind of pickles she didn't like. She didn't have the heart to tell Beasty they were gross, so Max sleight-of-handed the whole shebang off of her lunch plate and into a box and further into her storage and was planning on throwing them all out when Beasty wasn't in the kitchen. She just forgot. The stash came in handy now, she guessed. Storage kept them fresh enough. This guy probably had eaten a shifter hobo or two, so he shouldn't be picky about sandwiches, right? He ate all those rude people around town, uncaring if they were clean. Who knew where they had been? People are gross.

She rifled through the lunchbox and added a few candies she hadn't liked that were floating free-range in her storage, too. "Look, Princess, if you need anything, you're gonna be a little shit out of luck for a day or two. We've got plans that surprisingly don't revolve around this tower and that aren't catering to a bully who mistakenly thinks he's the biggest fish in the pond. I'll be back, eventually, with more food. I might throw around some [Cleanse]ing cantrips if you're on your very best behavior. Mostly because I'm just remembering that you don't have a shower in here and I don't want to experience the smell of a caged monster." She looked at him. "Do you even eat food or just sapient beings?"

His throat cleared. He blinked hard. "A bit of both, actually." He finally started moving again, like he had to reboot his brain but now it was back online, and slowly turned his legs from under the covers to hang off of the side of the bed and put his feet on the tiled floor.

He put his elbows on his knees and looked at his single bound wrist."You're being too nice of a warden. Abuse and depravities are expected. Not food delivery and hygiene. You could at least have the decency to threaten my loved ones. Maybe tell me about how you’re going to relish killing me." Other than the bent posture, he seemed like was taking it well, then. That was nice.

She shrugged. "Are there any dietary restrictions I should know about? Any requests you'd like to make? You might as well get comfortable, because you're gonna be here for a bit. Shadow wars can last lifetimes, you know."

He nodded like he was agreeing. “Ah. That's better. The reminder of time. Your threat is one of solitude and eventual ennui. Delightful.” He lifted his face, and he had a small half-smile that was genuine and his eyes raked over her face. "I never really liked the taste of elf. Too woodsy. Too much like liquid mulch." The sun hit his face and his eyes slid closed like he was enjoying it. His half-smile slowly turned into a sardonic grin.

Dang, but that [Charisma] was back to work. Ah, so that is going to be his angle of attack. Seduction? Okay.

He opened one eye and looked at her sideways. "But I find myself of late having cravings for imperious little aliens masquerading as fae."

Max guffawed and snorted. "Imperious? Nah, just angry. You terrified my elf and ignited my court. I assure you, at this moment, no ‘imperious masquerading’ is happening. You've got yourself a 100% pure, pissed-off Sidhe King holding your cage keys. It doesn't matter that I'm other stuff, too. Nor that I accidentally acquired the title, only by a technicality, and it's only been a few hours." She ground her teeth and softly said, "I didn't even want it. I wanted quiet. I wanted peace." She took a deep breath. Calmed down.

This is fine. We have shit to do. "Good job, fuckwad. You have no idea how much work you've caused me." She quickly patted the ward like it was a shoulder. It burned her hand again, but she didn’t care.

His smiling lips traced over the word "fuckwad". Like no one has ever told this fuckwad that he's a fuckwad.

She turned her face to glare at him but paused and reconsidered. Stopped gathering her stuff and turned fully to the ward to face him directly. Okay. If you wanna have a stat battle, let's have a real stat battle, then. She cranked up her own [Charisma] effects. She could feel her posture become looser and her limbs started to move more fluidly. She smelled her own pheromones bloom into a heady musk and night-blooming flowers. She immediately smelled like sex in a garden at night.

If the princess wanted to play, she'd play.

Her heart picked up. She slowly smiled at him. It may have been a seductive smile. She didn't know. She was out of practice and never tried to do one with this face. She leaned his way and stared at his mouth. Licked her bottom lip. Looked up at his eyes and looked back at his mouth. Lowly said in a raspy tone, "The other thing is true though, it just so happens. Great guess. It's not often I consider myself an alien, but that term is spot on."

He leaned forward, preparing to slip questions from his mouth to make hers answer, and maybe get a little nibble in the process. "You were the one who came through God's Fall Cavern."

She stopped trying for seductive, stood up fully, and smugly looked at him. "Yes, but I thought you were against playing question for a question. Now you owe me two answers."

He stopped talking but kept grinning.

She placed a few world history books, a regional recipe book titled The Southlands Skillet, and a Language of the Sea People book on the floor and toed them through the ward. Then she shifted into a sparrow and flew out of a window, leaving him in his tower to think about what a fuckwad he was.

Max: Hey, Flower. I'm done with doing what I was doing. I'm ready to start etching if you're still wanting to watch.

Thomas: Meet at the forge?

Max: Yeah.

She banked her little wings toward the right direction of her anchor once she was out of sight of the princess's tower. She disregarded everything but her immediate plans. She had surgery to prepare for and a world to secretly techno-magically dominate.