Lost Mission

Brown eyes widened, and she tensed for only a moment before she pushed forward to hug Sophie back. Her careful grip displayed her own sympathy for the other woman, whose pain she could smell.

Still, something seemed off about how the woman smelled. She smelled human, but strange, as though there was something Rare should notice about her. It niggled at her mind now that she was calmer, but she forced the thoughts away and simply buried her face against Sophie carefully, hopeful that her horns wouldn't tap or brush against the other woman at all.
 
The hug was returned and Sophia almost melted into the poor girl. Both of them had been in the need of some gentle attention, so much that a couple of strange feelings were not going to get in their way. As such, despite the woman's tight grip on the girl, the horns were left completely ignored, dismissed as if they were nothing more than some sort of hallucination. Sophia even went as far as to raise one of her hands to soothingly ran it along the girl's scalp, caressing her hair with her palm in a motherly manner that served to reassure both of them. Then, after several minutes of calm comfort, Sophie separated herself and let go of Rare with a genuine smile on her face.

"Thanks for not pushing me away," she said, clearly in a better mood than before as she fetched the paper and pen for Rare. "Sorry," she added even though it was not necessary. It just broke her heart to see such a sweet girl in this state, without her parents. Maybe it was the medicine speaking, yet she felt that Rare did not deserve to be treated like this. The girl's family should be with her and once again, she envisioned them going up in flames while their daughter survived. Sophie shook her head to get rid of that evil thought before she focused back on her companion as she pondered how else to pass the time. Other than more hugs, which made her feel a little bit skittish. She felt she had imposed enough on Rare already.

"If you want to, I can stay near you and make sure everything goes all right for you when we're let out," offered Sophia in the end, immediately leaping to the hopeful future. "You're going to have your family wait for you, right? I can help you find them." Let's be optimistic for the time being, Sophia told herself. Rare just got mixed up in the crowd and was separated from her blood relatives and that was most definitely the case. She definitely was not an orphan. Sophia's wounds suddenly pulsed with pain at that thought, yet she managed to keep a straight face.
 
Her weakness found, Rare slowly sank against the other woman, relaxing wholly into the embrace. As Sophie pulled away, Rare smiled up at her, warm and sincere. She needed it badly, and now, she felt so much more relaxed and calm, though the scents of Sophia's emotions caught her attention.

They were hard to detect, with the crowd around them, but Rare's nose was sensitive, especially this close, and she made no move to separate herself from Sophie—if the other wished for it, she was free to do so, but Rare wanted to be near, with touching and hugs and head-petting.

However, the mention of parents came.

Rare's smile dropped away, as though it had never been there, and she sighed before she reached for the paper and wrote slowly.


My parents died when I was young. I have nobody here.


She placed the pencil back into its place slowly, and then her self control faltered as she remembered again how her horns killed her mother, and how her father held her and wept for the first moments of her life.

Silently, she cursed the memory. She remembered feeling how muscles around her, pushing at her, had slowed. She remembered how much liquid there had been, and how still everything was before she heard her father speak. Later, she learned he was calling for her mother. Rare herself couldn't see yet, but she remembered hearing every sob, and the sensation of being swaddled and lifted and held tight.

The skin around her eyes tightened, as did her throat, as she fought the tears that came from knowing she killed her own mother.
 
That was most certainly a problem. Sophia had not expected for her companion to react quite so sorrowfully to a simple mention of parents and the reason soon became evident. Poor little girl. She was probably taken care of by her adoptive parents to whom she never got close to. There was definitely tension within her body that the older woman recognised, tears about to burst to the surface. It was subtle, but this close, it was hard to miss the signs Rare displayed, so much that Sophia considered infringing upon her once more. Then the speakers came to life all of a sudden.

"All refugees, this is brigadier Faulkner speaking." For something that just survived an orbital fusion bombardment with all the electromagnetic fields it implied, the system was remarkably intact. Though most emotion disappeared from the voice on the account of a poor connection, it was most definitely male. "Please stop what you are doing and listen carefully. I repeat. This is brigadier Faulkner speaking. Please stop what you are doing and listen carefully." There was a pause after that to let the refugees act as the speakers declared. People instinctively shifted from their positions, looking up at the source of the voice with some of them nervously glancing at the soldiers still in the room. The air was suddenly filled with subtle tension the source of which was hard to locate.

"The shelter will be opening its doors soon. Please listen to instructions and remain calm and organised at all times. Relief forces are waiting outside. I repeat..." And the message repeated itself a couple of times to make sure everyone was aware of happening. Another set of whispers started amongst the harrowed refugees, only to be quickly silenced by soldiers stepping forward then bellowing a set of orders at them. Peace was shattered by harsh, demanding commands that made Sophia look at Rare with concern, then squeeze the child's hand. Everything would be all right, she wanted to tell her, but the words got stuck in her mouth. After all, she was not sure what would happen next herself and while she was optimistic, she did not want to tell a lie.

She also missed the subtle signs that Rare may catch in the behaviour of soldiers as the people started to organise themselves. There were some whose thumbs were awfully close to the safety catches, not to mention those who smelled of nerves. Then there was also a very familiar, if subtle feeling in the air that she had first encountered an hour prior. The one that was oh-so-similar to sitting around a fire with comrades, hidden beneath a cover of other-worldly mystery. It was very hard to pick up on, but with her keen senses, it was probably as clear as day to the Hunter... And there was a distinct undercurrent of it looking for something. Almost as if it was searching for prey.
 
Along with the others, Rare lifted her head to look toward the source of the voice. Speakers—ew. They turned the man's voice into something of a monotone, more than it might already have been. Tension rose among the people, and Rare glanced around, then slipped her hand into Sophia's. Her other hand gripped the woman's wrist—a common tactic she'd been taught to hold someone's hand like you were scared. Her purpose was more protective than seeking of protection. Unarmed, without her jacket, she could still fight, and likely she could withstand whatever damage came from the soldiers' weapons.

The uneasy glances of the other people towards them gave Rare the impression there might not have been much trust between people and military.

Usually there were reasons for that. Nerves high, she scooted closer to Sophia.

For a message that appeared like it should have been a good thing, Rare heard no joy in the announcement that the doors would open, and relief was outside. Soldiers bellowed orders, and Sophia squeezed her hand. Rare squeezed in return and held tight to her. The soldiers were looking for someone or something. First instinct said it was her—she was the strange one, the one who had no records here and arrived last, by way of a soldier bringing her in blind from another city where nobody should have survived.

She was suspicious. She should have been held in custody on arrival, but now she was among refugees, a strange girl who recovered too quickly from injury and whose only ally was a woman she barely knew, who might betray her to the soldiers if she thought it in Rare's best interest.

Rare forced herself to relax, but kept her grip. If she concentrated on protecting Sophia, even if she was undoubtedly the prey, she could avoid the panic that lit a predator's veins on fire with excitement.

She remained still and with Sophia, but followed orders directed at her with a show of shy uncertainty as she held onto her companion's arm, almost hiding behind it like she was just a nervous kid clinging to someone she trusted in a strange situation.

She hoped shy children were a thing that existed here.
 
Sophia seemed to have taken up the role of protecting Rare as the soldiers organised the refugees into a somewhat loose line towards the exit and frowned with suspicion. This was not how standard procedures worked. At all. Even without noticing the soldiers, the woman knew that the entrances and exits did not warrant such a tight line, nor such slow advancement. According to her knowledge, shelters were to be emptied as quickly as possible while keeping order, so there was definitely something up that the civilians were not being told. Others were evidently of the same opinion as the line grew restless, but the sight of machineguns, combat knives and armour was a great deterrent for most people.

Those that had the bravery to act were discouraged when a man tried to escape the line. This resulted in the nearest soldier tripping him, then smashing the butt of their rifle into the man's head with more than enough force to knock him unconscious. Evidently, everyone was nervous as hell as several soldiers aimed their rifles at helpless civilians, causing everyone to freeze. Sophia was terrified at the sight of all this, almost going as far as wetting herself at the cruel display and yet, the line went on regardless. People advanced forward, their chatter silenced under the oppressive heel of the military. Flickers of hope were extinguished with extreme prejudice and Sophia's hand wound around Rare's as tightly as possible.

And despite Rare's precautions, the predatory grew stronger as they went towards the start of the line. Occasional glimpses of activity let them see that it was basically some sort of a checkpoint that the soldiers used to look over civilians, but why would they do such a thing? Uncertain, unsteady, paranoid and most of all, afraid, Sophia took refuge in the small body beside her. Surely, they would not hurt a child. The military was supposed to be better than that. Right? At the moment, she was not so sure about that and they were inching ever-so-closer to the checkpoint. Worst of all, Sophia also started feeling the strange aura in the air despite the painkillers in her system, which caused her to share a worried look with Rare.
 
Nerves rose. Restlessness filled the civilians. She could smell fear, especially at the brutal attack on the man who tried to escape the line. She turned her head to stare at the man as she and Sophia inched forward.

If she was the one they wanted, and Sophia objected...

A shiver of fear ran through her.

Sophia was so kind. She didn't deserve the sort of treatment given to that man.

Perhaps she looked too fascinated. Her mind was off her acting for now, and churning through ways to keep Sophia safe. She couldn't well warn her—the woman didn't seem to know sign language, and she couldn't write like this, not without magic, unless...

She couldn't imagine a civilian of any stripe handling what she had in mind very well. It was the best idea she had, but it was stupid.

Sophia's worried glance caught her eye, and she looked up at her to instinctively offer a reassuring smile.

Rare couldn't be sure Sophia wouldn't panic if she just... wrote on her in blood. She was already hurt, and Rare wasn't sure where or how, though the woman didn't seem to have broken bones.

She doubted she had enough of the woman's attention to write on her hand with a finger and rely on her to feel what the letters were.

She tapped the woman with her shoulder gently, then made sure she could see. A finger to her lips offered the cue to keep quiet before Rare bit some skin from her own finger. She wrote quick and careful onto the back of her own hand as she held Sophia's.

Please do not get hurt. I will be fine.

With that, the black-haired girl silently hoped Sophia wouldn't make a scene, wouldn't get hurt, would remain safe—such a sweet and kind woman didn't deserve to get hurt over someone like Rare.

Rare sucked her fingertip clean as she looked away, hopeful she didn't just turn the stomach of her companion. She assumed it was a given that she'd be captured. Hopefully Sophia didn't have to be, as well. Once Sophia read the message, Rare started to let go of the other woman's hand, ready to lick her own clean.
 
The tension in the atmosphere could be cut with a knife. There were no more attempts at fleeing from the line, however whatever fragile bond of trust there had been between the military and the civilians, it was shattered into thousands of pieces. There was no more goodwill from either side towards the other, which was quite terrifying considering that the military had weapons. One wrong move could turn the entire shelter into a slaughterhouse filled with bodies, or at least that was the feeling which permeated the air right now. Sophia could sense this all too well and as they got closer to the military checkpoint, the strange, inexplicable presence in the back of her head was not helping. Nor was the fact that Rare wrote a message onto her hand in her own blood.

Biting down on her lip so as not to scream at the top of her lungs at the sight, Sophia fought for consciousness as she inevitably started to ponder what sort of a person would teach that to their child. Seriously, who the hell would think of using blood to communicate? Especially in this situation! There were many more... things... no, there were not really, but that was beside the point. It took every ounce of the gentle woman's strength so as not to freak out. She was evidently not built for things like these and her hand clenched around Rare's, not letting go of her despite the girl's wishes.

Sophia's eyes were filled with pleading as she grasped the hand she held. It was clear that she needed every ounce of help she could get. It was too bad that she would never that.

Suddenly, the presence around them shifted and within seconds, the line in front of them was split, revealing a woman who was staring right at them. She was clearly battered, bruised, burnt and injured in several places if the discoloured patches of her skin were any indication. Her hands along with her face seemed to suffer most of the damage: what once must have been long, soft hands of black hair had been turned into a frazzled mess. Burnt ends joined hands with plain disarray to create a picture-perfect representation of someone who had just been on the losing side of a fight. The blue bruise on the left side of her face along with the fresh scratches all along her skull reinforced that impression.

However, her most peculiar feature were her eyes. As clear as the sky, they seemed to be otherworldly, especially because their colour seemed to ever-so-slightly tint her sclera. Her poise was also quite eye-catching: though she was wearing standard issue military camo, her mere presence requested attention. She was clearly someone of importance and perhaps even more importantly, now that she was in the open, the feeling at the back of Rare's mind became one of satisfaction.

"That is her," said the woman as she locked eyes with Rare. Sophia paled as she realised the situation and almost broke Rare's bones with the strength of her grip. What the hell did a psychic want with the child whom she had befriended?
 
Rare could smell Sophia's panic, and tried to motion to her that it was fine. She showed her the unharmed finger, but that didn't help. She smiled at the woman, calm and reassuring.

Unfortunately, she couldn't wipe her hand. She could easily break Sophia's grip, but that might hurt the already scared and pained woman. Rare stroked Sophia's arm, trying to calm her. Movement and a shift in presence caught her attention, and even without being picked out, she knew she'd been found—she hadn't tried to hide, though.

Had she the chance, she would have come out on her own, but...

Rare turned to look at the approaching woman. The moment their eyes locked, Rare had no doubt her time with Sophia was over. Her shoulders sagged, and she held up a finger in a common gesture of 'one moment'. She collected her thoughts and signed slowly.

"I-GO-PEACEFUL. WANT-SAY-GOODBYE-FRIEND."

Hopefully someone understood the signs enough to translate.

She looked back at Sophia, then lifted her hand and pointed to it—a reminder that she would be fine, and Sophia should do what she could to stay safe.

Rare didn't pull from her, though, and just stroked Sophia's hand for a few moments. She didn't want to leave her, but without a doubt, Sophia would be better off if they parted—especially after the brutality she witnessed in the line.

Part peacefully. That would give Sophia all the protection she could offer the other woman short of an overt display of power. From then...

From then, hopefully Rare would at least be the only one in danger.

She didn't notice how her fingers trembled faintly in the other woman's grip.
 
There was no calming Sophia down. For all intents and purposes, the woman's eyes were filled with panic and she was clearly looking for a way out. The soldiers were no longer aiming their weapons at her or Rare, there were several gaps in the people nearby, the exit was close enough... If only the psychic was not standing right in front of her. Then they would have a chance. The instinctive desire to protect what she saw as a harmless teenager welled up in her, not because psychics were known for their cruelty, but because it could mean nothing good for her. There was just this awful feeling in the pit of Sophia's stomach that encompassed her whole being despite the calmness of the woman who was standing in front of them.

"All right," said the black-haired psychic after a brief moment of thinking on the sign language that Rare used. "Brigadier, you can let the rest go now. Say your goodbyes... for as long as you like." There was a clear implication in the psychic's voice that there would be something happening later that may or may not be pleasant depending on how everything proceeded. This only got Sophia to panic more and her voice finally broke.

"She's just a teenager," said Rare's companion, which made the psychic's eyes narrow.

"She's an odd one then," responded the psychic as the rest of the civilians filtered out of the building, all too quick to leave the scene behind. As exalted as the black-haired woman was, their nerves had been already worn thin and being in the same room as someone who could read minds was not condusive to peace. Even more importantly, it was an excuse to get the hell out of the shelter, the atmosphere of which had become absolutely stifling with the staring contest between two women. Several minutes passed in silent contemplation, which lead to the air becoming even heavier.

"Wouldn't it be better to just seize her?" came a question from behind the black-haired woman, cutting straight into the uncomfortable void of this mock of a standoff.

"It's better to keep a little peace," said the psychic without much conviction and a hint of exhaustion in her voice as Sophia looked at Rare for advice on how to handle the situation. This... this screamed bad. Really bad. Rare was about to be taken away and then transported to heaven-knows-where. She was not even given an opportunity! This was not how the military was supposed to work at all. They were for the protection of the people, not for whisking children away from their rightful homes. Even though that home had likely been turned into a mixture of molten concrete and glass by now.
 
Rare could smell the woman's panic, clear in the air. The line hurried past them, clearing out after the uniformed stranger told Rare she could say goodbye. Sophia and the soldier exchanged words. Someone suggested seizing Rare, but the woman, seemingly in charge, voted against it.

With Sophia's gaze on Rare, the girl turned toward her and smiled. She didn't have words to explain, only blood, but that so jarred the other woman before...

Pale brown eyes glanced around until they fell onto a pen and paper on the nearby desk.

She pointed to it to make her intentions known, then approached.

"Hey, where are—" he fell silent. Rare assumed the strange-eyed woman had a hand in that, but didn't look at him. Instead, she began to write for Sophia.

Sophia,

I will be fine. I am certain it is only because my arrival here was unusual.


She paused and tapped the pen tip a couple times as she pondered what else to say.

Maybe afterward, they will let me contact you. I would like that. For now, I think it is best we do as they say. I don't want you to get hurt.


Her gaze briefly darted back, to where the man had tried to step out of line as her hand paused in its neat writing.

As long as we cooperate, we should both be alright.


She slid the paper so the other woman could see it. The words on the paper, as Rare reread them, made her sound so naive, but it seemed the best way to keep Sophia safe—hand herself over, offer the woman encouragement that everything would be alright, and give her some hope that they could meet again.

Rare gave the other woman plenty of time to read, then pulled her hand free of Sophia's and instead wrapped both arms around the woman. Sophia had been calmed as much by their previous hug as Rare had. She hoped this one might have a similar effect. She wanted this to be as peaceful as possible for the other woman's sake. In her mind, she knew she was probably going to go through hell, herself. Her own pain wasn't too large a concern to herself, though.
 
The moments seemed to stretch on for eternity. For Sophia, the entire world may as well have been in slow motion as Rare somehow broke from the woman's admittedly weak grip, then the girl made her way towards the soldier's desk. Locked between the military, a psychic, her terror and a hard place, Sophia could only stare as the psychic woman silenced the starts of protest with a single glare that said all. At least that gave Sophia a little bit of reassurance that maybe the military was not as bad as the last couple of minutes had lead her to believe. Maybe there would be something that could be done, anything that would make it easier on Rare. She did not deserve to be taken away like this!

But all Sophia could do was watch on along with the rest of the base. If there was a voice of dissent or even movement amongst the ranks that the raven-haired woman disapproved of, it would be silenced. She wielded authority as if it was a second skin or perhaps something even more familiar to her and despite her wounded visage, she was clearly in control of the situation. She presented herself as the sole arbiter of what would happen, a cruel judge that declared Rare would be able to say her good byes to Sophia, no matter the cost. Of course, the psychic was watching the interaction quite closely and followed Rare with her strange eyes as she wrote her letter, then made her way back to the still stunned Sophia.

Reduced to a state somewhere between astonishment, relief and catatonia, the woman could barely take away the letter from Rare and her wounds were not helping. With hands shaking from fear, she read the neatly written words, then she looked up at the psychic despite the hug.

"As much as I'd like to say that there's a choice, there really isn't," answered the raven-haired woman before Sophia could arcticulate what she wanted to ask. "The best I can promise is that I'll look out for her."

"But Exycoran Elisa-"

"Brigadier Faulkner, your opinion has not been requested." The difference in tone when the psychic spoke to the soldiers and to the civilians was clear as the difference between day and night. Cold logic ran in the woman's voice when she commanded the former and patience characterised her in the latter case. "I appreciate your work, but your handling of the case has been questionable at best." That was that as far as she was concerned, so her gaze returned to Sophia, who was still having a hard time separating herself from the child.

But in the end, there was nothing she could do. As much as it hurt, as much as she wished that she actually mattered, all that Sophia could do was to hug Rare tight and then nod to her with a face that looked as if she was about to cry.
 
Rare squeezed Sophia, tight but careful. She felt for the woman, wishing she could reassure her more. Their bond was very new, very fresh in Sophia's mind, but it was also formed in a short period of time. Sophia, she felt certain, would recover. She likely wouldn't forget thanks to the high emotions of the situation, but she may eventually wonder why she'd felt so strongly for someone only just met.

Sophia's expression was enough to convince Rare not to pull away too quickly. She gave enough time for Sophia's facial muscles to relax—to show some sign that she was calming. She waited for the scents to shift.

Finally, she pulled from the other woman. With a warm, cheerful smile, she offered Sophia a view of a girl who felt safe. It was a false image, worn by a skilled actor, but Rare wasn't without the confidence that she'd be alright. She survived the scorching of the earth. The panic was gone.

Some fear remained, but the need to protect Sophia was stronger.

Her hands came to rest together, flat in front of her thighs. She bent at the waist, arms and back straight as she offered Sophia a bow. When she rose, it was with the same bright and cheerful smile, as though she was only saying 'see you later' as she went home for the night, rather than 'goodbye' as the military took her.

With that, she offered a little wave, then turned toward 'Exycoran Elisa.'

Exycoran was the name that brought Staff Sergeant Miles Conner so much relief and pulled him out of his despair. With that in mind, she stepped toward the military woman and bowed her head briefly before she signed 'thank you'.
 
It was difficult to say goodbye. Sophia held onto Rare for quite some time, far longer than it was really necessary to convey her feelings and even then, she could barely let her go as her conscience rebelled against the army. What was it doing, tearing people apart? It was simply unnacceptable. Even when the tension drained from her body, she loathed to let go of Rare, loathed that she was not able to fight. But, she was only a mere civilian. A speck of dust who could not measure up against the great power of an Exycoran or even an ordinary soldier. And so, she reluctantly let go of the fragile little thing in her arm while wishing Rare good fortune in silence.

She did not trust herself to speak lest her voice crack or inspire her to do something foolish.

When the embrace was finally broken, Elisa acknowledged Rare's sign of gratitude and surrender with a nod. Her expression did not betray much feeling, nor was the scent of her emotions easily read. It was almost as if there was something around the raven-haired woman that prevented the Hunter's senses from working properly. Best described as a presence without any will behind it, it almost made her feel murky while at the same time giving her the familiar sensation of ancient humanity's essence: gathered around a campfire, swapping stories and staying warm to make it seem as if their life was not in danger.

"There's no need to thank me." Elisa placed a gentle hand on Rare's shoulder before she turned to the bald man manning what used to be the impromptu checkpoint. "Brigadier Faulkner, I've completed my duties as written in the Valuable Asset Protection Act. The rest is up to you to decide, but I'll be leaving with her. Come on." Like before, her voice was distant and commanding as she spoke to the soldier. It seemed that she reserved her better self to the civilians, or rather, victims of the taelrikon orbital bombardment. She lead Rare away from the military presence and the shelter, staying silent the whole way, her hand on the Hunter's shoulder.

"All right." Elisa stopped when they were finally a good distance away from Rare's former caretakers, enough so that the shelter was disappearing on the horizon. She then let go of the Hunter before she knelt down to meet her eye-to-eye. "Let's start with two questions. Who are you and where do you come from? And please, don't try to lie to me. I'd rather hear it from your mouth than your mind." While her voice was not threatening or malicious, it was clear that Exycoran Elisa was suspicious for some reason. She wanted to get to the bottom of this supposed teenager who did not feel like one at all.
 
Rare didn't look back. To do so would be to sap away Sophia's strength, what of it remained. Instead, she followed after Elisa, quiet and obedient, and thankful that 'Exycoran' seemed to outrank brigadier.

However, the strange sensation around the military woman left Rare wary. She showed none of it in her manner as she followed until Elisa stopped, then knelt in front of her, looking up at the girl. Two questions, and then hearing from her mouth or her mind?

The defenses taught by Crow solidified suddenly, and Rare straightened—similar to a child scolded for slouching.

Still, she closed her eyes briefly as she decided to be honest, though she hoped she wouldn't have to be too detailed.

She began to sign.

"MY-NAME-R-A-R-E." She made an L, then slid it down her nose twice: had her hand sign been different, an X, it would have meant doll.

A moment passed, and then she continued.

"I-FROM-STONE-WALLS-UNDERGROUND. STOLEN-YOUNG-FROM-PARENTS. TAUGHT-BY-CHILD-LOVER."

With the last two signs, her calm face shifted subtly. Eyes narrowed, nose wrinkled, and lip drew back, though not enough to part them. Anger. Disgust. She knew she'd been abused. Her reaction to mention of a child-lover was raw but restrained, and some of the emotion leaked through her barrier.

The girl shook her head and banished the emotion.

"PREFER-NOT-THINK-ABOUT-HOME."
 
That was not exactly what Elisa had asked, but before she could interrupt, Rare continued on. She was treated to information that she did not really want, details about Rare's past. A bundle of bitter memories that must have been a long time ago judging by the way she phrased it. Even then, their impact was not lessened. The psychic could pick up on the Hunter's emotions without even trying as they slipped by Rare's mental defences, all but shouting at the top of their lungs so that she may notice them. Disgust. Loathing. Anger. Perhaps a desire for revenge, though Elisa felt as if that was only her own addition to Rare's feelings. Considering the circumstances, it was hard to resist protecting this being-in-a-teenager's-disguise.

A dry, but understanding smile came across Elisa's face as she thought that.

"Both of us know that wasn't what I was curious about." The statement was without even a hint of malice, but there was a definite undercurrent to it. It was difficult to tell as Elisa's tone remained neutral and her emotions... This close, it was clear that they were buried underneath a layer of something. A living thing that smelled like a disease, yet also carried within it salvation. It was a strange presence that had always been around the psychic, but only became really tangible just now. It lasted only for a brief moment before it dispersed, then replaced by a feeling that was starting to become familiar. A kindled fire of ancient humanity, with people sitting all around and gazing into the flames.

"So I'm going to ask it again. What are you?" Again, Elisa's voice was neutral and she was difficult to read, but it was clear that she was not convinced of Rare's human identity. There were too many inconsistencies. Mindset along with subtly different reactions aside, that body was clearly not of a human. Human bodies did not feel this way. They did not have growths of bone that were so readily apparent to her senses, nor were they capable of recovering with such frightening speeds. The very base structure was different; it was enough to fool a casual observer. But Elisa was an Exycoran. It did not fool her. Rare was very different underneath her skin. And that is why Elisa needed to find what she was looking at exactly before she delivered her to the proper authorities.
 
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Had Elisa not asked who she was and where she was from? She answered that, though not in the same sense of the question the strange woman had intended.

Still, she kept her posture straight, though her head remained bowed in quiet submission. She showed no aversion to eye contact, though she squinted slightly as she tried to read Elisa's expression and scent. Subtle flaring of nostrils and minute-but-rapid movements of the chest gave away her sniffing to try and read.

Frustration rose, but she kept her expression calm and relaxed as ever. A few deep breaths and she clumsily built up her mental defenses, though her reasoning had nothing to do with Elisa and everything to do with a growing sensation of confusion and lack of control.

To be truthful...?

Last time she had told the truth to someone with no ties to the Hunters, she'd been burned at a stake. She clearly remembered the horrible sensation of waking covered in blood and char, entirely hairless and nude as she hid in some straw a far distance from that town.

Still, this person asking clearly had ways to find out. Being asked like this seemed little more than a kindness.

Her lips tightened, and she forced a deep, slow breath, then another, before she signed again.

"SCARED-TELL. TELL-BRINGS-PAIN-SCARES-PEOPLE-BECAUSE-DIFFERENT."

Her signing came quickly, sometimes starting a word and stopping before it could form. Once she finished, she looked again toward Elisa.

Rare's frustration spiked suddenly.

"STOP-HIDE-SCENT!" The signs came suddenly and the exaggeration gave a clear indication of Rare's churning emotions—not that the Hunter had any way to hide them from the Exycoran, even with her practiced poker-face.
 
A long, tired and frustrated sigh dominated the air. For a moment, a hint of emotion appeared on Elisa's face. She could be read even without the scent that was hidden by the presence around her. The psychic looked exhausted, the same lack of energy one saw on a soldier after they had been through a particularly difficult battle. It lasted only for a second before a sorry look transformed her face once again. She really, really did not want to break down those mental barriers. That was the last thing she needed after what happened, so she decided to try again.

"I already know you aren't human. You aren't reacting like one and you're trying to smell something in the air." As if to emphasize her point, Elisa carefully brushed Rare's nose, bringing light to her observations. "I don't know if you're some sort of Atlantian experiment, a part of the Taelrikon's plan or even some sort of insane Saar-Kren scheme... But you're on a human world now. We try to do our best. You... you didn't ask to be born like this, did you? You didn't ask to be stolen away from your parents so early on in your life, either." Elisa closed her eyes as she thought of what more to say other than the meagre comfort she could offer. She did not want to lie as she had a feeling Rare was at the height of paranoia in the moment and as such, she did not mention anything from the standard propaganda package.

"Please listen. I am not hiding my scent and I'm not trying to hurt you. So if you know the truth, please share it with me. I beg you." Another sigh. Elisa really was not herself today, she noted, but considering what she just went through, it was understandable. She normally did not sound so desperate when talking to anomalies she just met. There were different ways of appealing to their humanity. However, she wanted to wrap this up in the most humanitarian, painless way possible without actually lying about her intentions. Hopefully, the honesty would not be lost on Rare.
 
Rare watched Elisa carefully, brows knitting upward at the other woman's brief show of frustration and exhaustion. Still unable to smell the other's emotions, the small Hunter struggled with instincts that urged her to pick fight or flight.

With the ease of centuries of practice, she forced her rational mind forward and made herself take a deep breath. She let it out slowly, and it slowed further as Elisa explained how she knew Rare wasn't human.

The demon-blooded girl took minor offense at being told she didn't react like a human, but it faded with the touch to her nose as her eyes crossed to look at the offending finger, and hurt pride deflated as she caught a tiny whiff of scent from the contact.

A tiny wisp of trust eased into Rare's mind from even that tiny sampling of scent.

Elisa went on, speaking of experiments and plans and schemes from beings whose names drew visible puzzlement to Rare's face. She'd heard only one of those names before—but Atlantians varied so widely in what they were, knowing their name was as meaningless. as knowing the names of the Taelrikon or the Saar-Kren.

Rare's eyes widened at Elisa's admittance to begging. Begging Rare.

The girl's jaw fell open slightly before Rare snapped it shut, ears flushing pink along the outer curves. She swallowed, then forced a deep breath and let it out.

"I-AM-HUNTER. FIGHT-MONSTER. PROTECT-HUMAN." A few moments passed as she stared at her own hands.

A scowl suddenly marred her smooth features. "LIKELY-SENT-RECIEVE-SKY-DEATH. NOT-ANYMORE-USEFUL-TO-OWNER." Tears formed as she watched her hands form the signs, and her fingers trembled.

Crow said he'd protect her, if she just did all he asked of her—if she did his bidding. This... wasn't protection. He'd sent her to die, she was sure of it.

"SENT-TO-DIE."

Staring at her own hands, she sniffled quietly. Her hands dropped slowly, and she gripped the front of her borrowed shirt. It covered her about as much as her dress had. Slender shoulders began to shake as her expression slid into a grimace as she tried to restrain the choking sensation of betrayal.

How could he?

She'd always done as he said, even if she had an attitude!
 
That really had not been the answer Elisa expected. She counted on there being some sort of a cover story that would detail how Rare got lost on this planet or how she made it here, but the teenager's answer was not that at all. In fact, she said something that did not make the least bit of sense from Elisa's perspective and judging by her reaction, she did not even realise the names of species that the psychic knew from heart. They glanced off Rare as if they were foreign names even though most citizens have likely heard of them. Not only from the books of history, but also as everyday politics described the Taelrikon acting around colonies, burning down colonies in the name of something that Elisa was sure not even they understood. Therefore, something was very wrong here and this time, it was not her psionic foresight telling her that.

It was a gut feeling that started in Elisa's stomach and got stronger as Rare admitted to fighting monsters as well as protecting humans with the greatest sincerity she could muster. If she was lying, then the psychic could not see any trace of it. Even worse, her powers could not see deception in those words, so either they were true or the teenage-looking woman was programmed to believe them so deeply that they became a core of her being. Then Rare even went on to proclaim that she was sent here to die to suffer from 'sky-death', a phrase that was foreign to Elisa, but nevertheless familiar. It was as if she was being told of the orbital bombardment by someone who had no conception of something like that. Or someone who had not been taught the correct sign for it. Or someone who wanted to substitute something simpler so that she understood, which, again, pointed to something being extremely wrong.

"This... you aren't lying," said Elisa out loud as she gently brushed one of Rare's hairs out of her face in an effort to give her a little bit of comfort. "But that would mean... you're a new species. And you've just shown up out of nowhere." Such a thing was difficult to comprehend, yet it seemed to be both the most likely and the most suitable explanation for the current events. Save for the fact that somehow, the teenage-looking woman knew English. Therefore, some sort of illegal modification to humans, but then why would she not know of the Taelrikon or the Saar-Kren? Or even psychics themselves? There were so many questions in Elisa's head right now that she had to close her eyes for a second, then bury her face into her hands in an effort to relieve herself of the stress. It was a rare moment of weakness and quickly recovered from, but she was so tired after she had given this planet her all.

"You didn't see that," Elisa commented with a steely edge in her voice as she recovered from the shock. "But... Fine. I don't know what I'll do with you yet and you're definitely telling the truth. I don't know why someone sent you to die, but you're safe now. Even if the Taelrikon return, my orders are to remain here until reinforcements arrive." This was true and while originally, Elisa would have preferred to go home and lick her wounds in a hospital that could actually tend to her needs, the situation has changed. Something unprecedented was happening here and now her presence was definitely needed. Her body disagreed strongly with this decision, flooding her system with fatigue, but her mind was resolute. She needed to stay here, make a report, observe Rare and await further orders.
 
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