They relax a bit when he continues to be unfazed: perhaps they were worried about a violent reaction after all. Ghost continues to peer out at him, silent and wary, the points of his shell all drawn in close around the little robot. They do spin around him when Loki speaks - back and forward a little at the request not to damage him, a sharper spin when he speaks with such entertainment at the situation.
The Eliksni pay him absolutely no attention. The Baroness considers Loki's request for a minute. Then she lifts the long spear and raps the butt against the deck below, a sharp, hard sound. Her head turns left to one of the vandals standing guard, and she growls in Eliksni, "Bring the battle-honor prize to me."
The Vandal drops to all sixes as they scurry into a side door. The Baroness makes a gesture at Loki, likely indicating to wait. Presently the vandal returns walking upright, a metal pole a four or five feet long propped over their shoulder. They bow before their lord as they offer it up, and Pelsor takes it, lifts it in one hand. She takes a last long look at the trophy fixed to one end, delayed by reluctance for a couple of moments. But then she hisses beneath her mask, and tosses the whole thing down to Loki.
It's Blaze's head on the end. That may be no surprise. The Exo's optics are dark and empty, a scorched hole punched clean through her metal skull, occipital to front, dead and burned circuitry showing in between.
"When the storm ends, take this to them," rumbles the Baroness, oblivious to the way Ghost flares bright for a second, drawn to the wall of his tiny prison.
no subject
The Eliksni pay him absolutely no attention. The Baroness considers Loki's request for a minute. Then she lifts the long spear and raps the butt against the deck below, a sharp, hard sound. Her head turns left to one of the vandals standing guard, and she growls in Eliksni, "Bring the battle-honor prize to me."
The Vandal drops to all sixes as they scurry into a side door. The Baroness makes a gesture at Loki, likely indicating to wait. Presently the vandal returns walking upright, a metal pole a four or five feet long propped over their shoulder. They bow before their lord as they offer it up, and Pelsor takes it, lifts it in one hand. She takes a last long look at the trophy fixed to one end, delayed by reluctance for a couple of moments. But then she hisses beneath her mask, and tosses the whole thing down to Loki.
It's Blaze's head on the end. That may be no surprise. The Exo's optics are dark and empty, a scorched hole punched clean through her metal skull, occipital to front, dead and burned circuitry showing in between.
"When the storm ends, take this to them," rumbles the Baroness, oblivious to the way Ghost flares bright for a second, drawn to the wall of his tiny prison.