RP:Escape Plan P: Pixie

Part of the The Savage Queen Arc

Part of the The White Hunt Arc

Part of the Agitation Arc

Summary: A pixie's (Rainbow) curiosity lead her over to the prisoner cages, where Amabella was imprisoned for having fun with the torture of Quave. Conversation quickly lead to talk of escape, then business, when the topic of the undead's abilities were brought to light. Rainbow set off to ignite things around the western tents to cause a distraction. Able to free herself of physical bonds due to a necromantic nature, Amabella eventually freed herself, silently drained the life out of Quave for good measure, then finally departed. The escape didn't go unnoticed, but by the time the undead was seen fleeing it was too late to recapture her.

Prisoner Cages

Amabella sat there within the obnoxious bindings Hildegarde's guards wrestled her into earlier. An enchanted chain bound her skeletal arms behind her back, while a silencing muzzle covered her jaw. Small violet orbs of light radiated the undead's hatred from here eyes should be housed. Either Amabella was just a clothed skeleton, or it was just the flesh on everything aside from her torso that was missing-- burned, probably, considering there were still charred areas wherever Amabella's body was visible.

Rainbow buzzes in from the west, coming to a stop just in front of the cage, staring at the... being inside of it for some time. "... You're... Dead. Not... dead, but... Dead. In a cage. And not trying to eat anyone. Which is weird. What's... what's a hand doing in a cage, and... in such bad shape?" Rainbow then notices the muzzle. "... Oh, wow. no talking, huh..." She keeps her voice quiet, her small size helping once more with the fact that such big things generally can't be bothered to notice her.

At first, Rainbow just earned a rather malicious glare. Or what felt like one. It was hard to tell otherwise because of the lack of defining and moving facial features. Amabella's response was delayed, but eventually came despite the attempted vocal binding. "What's a fae to do with me? Those meat-heads threw me in here because of some weak-kneed wench had a change of heart," she explained. The undead's voice was quiet, but clear, and distinctly feminine. At least that helps sorting that out. Quave would be missing most of the fingernails on one hand, and the device used to remove them stuck upon a broken digit.

Rainbow just... stares at her. "... I... am not... a faerie. Call me one again... and I will... no bells..." She grumbles. "You're lucky you can talk. Right. First, *why*. the Dead are usually consumed with... consuming. Secondly, that sounds like kinda a pain."

Amabella sighed, somehow. Force of habit, even while dead, apparently. "Even if my home is near those bizarre lands, you're the first... person... I've seen with wings like those," she explained. Being on the other hand of stereotypes and misunderstandings wasn't really any fun. "Enserviced to Death countless ages ago. 'High quality and animation', said those from my -creation-." There was some heavy venom dripping from that last word. Amabella's tone mellowed out a bit when speaking about the earlier ordeal, "More him than me. Just an annoyance at most, but I don't know if the lad could do something about this in time before the Steward gets to me. Doubt she'd be happy hearing what happened to her prized prisoner over there after whatever went down with that damned cat-man."

Rainbow nods sagely. "... Well. You've got me curious. Some necromancer raised you, but you're sane for whatever reason, and really, really don't like necromancers because of it. Okay. Okay. So um... what do you... do? I mean, obviously get thrown in jail, but... You know."

Amabella was internally screaming. It just looked like she was sitting there thinking of how to respond, but anyone could feel it. "I serve Death in the south-eastern sands. Aside from that, there was chemical work and the like. If only I could move around without those oafs noticing..." There was a light clinking within Amabella's sleeves, and it was more than just her bonds. Luckily, the guards seemed to ignore it as the rustlings of the prisoners in their sleep.

Rainbow tilts her head. "... Alchemy? Oh. ooooh, frabjulous day. Want a job? If you do, I can distract 'em for you a little. Shouldn't be too hard, I have ways, figure you can find your way out. 'course, that'd be contingent upon the whole job thing..."

Freedom without much hassle sounded pretty good. Now would be a better time than any to attempt an escape, anyway. "Surely it wouldn't be short-lived regardless of whatever you ask of me. Sure, I'm tired of this frozen hell." Amabella gripped onto her left wrist with her other hand, waiting for whatever the pixie decided to do before breaking it and sliding the bindings clean past the stump. The parted hand would be reattached without much issue, and the same treatment would be given to the other hand and any other bindings preventing her movement.

Rainbow pauses, then nods, giving her a thumbs-up. "Can you get out of town on your own once you're free? If so, meet me in xanthous on the morrow." She'd wait for an answer, and be off. Ama would... know quite quickly what exactly she had planned, as a sharp whistle is heard from the direction of the guard's tent, followed by a crackle of fire and a pillar of smoke. Needless to say, the guards are pretty interested in the fact that their house is now on fire, and run off, seeing as... well, the prisoners can probably wait a few minutes while they put that out.

Amabella replied, "The lad can help. Be seeing ya." Last of all was the muzzle, but that wasn't difficult to remove. Technically it was more of just an aesthetic thing at this point than anything else, but at least it removed the chances of spoken spells from being choked up in... wherever the undead's voice emanated from. It was removed by the time the guards were mostly gone, but all the clanging of metal had awoken the neighboring captive. Quave didn't need light to see what was happening; neither did Amabella. Really, the only thing that mattered was the approaching glow of the undead's 'eyes' and how the light played about within their respective sockets. Amabella's right hand was brought up to the bars before her while arcane whisperings were carried away on the wind. Energy coalesced in visible static arcs dancing from fingertip to fingertip before shooting forth and reducing the two closest bars to slag. Amabella's tiny frame passed through, and then once more into the other cell... Quave's last sight was a strong reminder of where he was about to be sent. Bone gripped around the flesh of his neck, the very life draining from his very body, and then no more time was wasted here.