nevermoretheravenreturns:
Arthur was rather glad that he didn’t have audio set up on the surveillance system. Doubtless the bandit’s scream would be tedious. He sat down and started more reports that needed to be done.
That had Ruby lifting her head and looking at Raven. Of all the things she thought Raven would say about her mother, it wasn’t that. She hesitated, but opened her mouth to say something to her– but Tyrian’s appearance had her jaw snapping shut.
When he approached Raven with the blade she was afraid of what could happen. She might not know what Raven’s intentions were, but even then Ruby didn’t want to see her hurt. Maybe it was stupid or naive to think it, but even after everything that was the last thing she wanted.
Something. She needed to do something. Something quick. But she couldn’t do anything, strapped in this chair. Her head hurt, but she remembered the heat and pressure she felt behind her eyes and tried to grasp it. The part of her she didn’t know how to control. To draw that power– that magic to her and do something.
“HEY!” she shouted at Tyrian, and then from her eyes burst forth light.
Raven scowled at Tyrian. “Well, I need free hands and to get rid of this shock collar. Otherwise your little friend the mad scientist won’t let me do anything,” she replied as Ruby yelled. Raven barely had time to turn her head when she saw the hints of silver, closing her eyes against the blinding glow. Godsdamnit! She’d just said no heroics, and the kid goes right ahead and does something stupid. She gritted her teeth and opened her eyes when the glow faded, ready to jump into action far too soon if she had to.
Tyrian turned in annoyance back to Ruby when she shouted, about to tell her to wait her turn, when silver blasted into him. He winced and staggered away from the little girl, dropping one of the knives to avoid stabbing himself when he shielded his eyes and raising the other to throw, then cursed when he realized that would merit touching and harming and his queen wanted both of them functional and Watts, repairer of his prosthetic, wanted her unharmed. By him at least.
When the glow faded he rubbed his face, blinking his seared eyes and reached out to feel for Raven, his tail bumping against and then coiling around her as yet unpoisoned leg. He considered his options, as his vision slowly returned, then looked Raven over, not finding anything useful on her, nor willing to sacrifice part of his coat. That long cloak though...
Tyrian stepped toward the little girl in the chair. “Hold still, bratling,” he growled, then very carefully sliced through the neck of her cloak, then yanked the material up and away from her before wrapping it around her head and gathering up the loose ends and using the knife to pin them to the back of her chair so she couldn’t just shake it off of her face. “I don’t think that counts as touching. Or hurting.” Tyrian said to the camera, then walked back over to Raven, picking up the dropped knife along the way. “I’m starting to think you had no intention of giving me Qrow,” he mused, hooking a finger under the shock collar and moving to block Watts’ view of what was happening again.
“Still,” he said in an undertone. “What’s the harm? I’ll be back with a key, but hold on to this for me in the meantime. Just business, you understand.” Tyrian sank the short blade into her thigh between the end of her skirt and the top of her stockings, careful not to hit major arteries. “Ooo,” he crooned. “You do carry good knives, I’ll have to keep these.”
