"You had one job, Iris," Kinwrathi snarled through her lips. Iris' hands hovered over the almost sparkling white sink bowl, trembling. She glared at herself in the mirror, or more accurately the Chieftain glared at his captive's reflection, before turning her eyes down to see her trembling hands. The left was open, and the right was closed through she didn't make any effort to hide what it was closed around. A razorblade. Her chapped lips cracked into a smile as her right hand slowly, but ever surely, lowered over her left wrist.

Her eyes locked onto her hand as she dragged the edge of the blade horizontally against the top of her wrist. The tip of the blade dripped red as she pulled it away, and crimson pooled along the split in her skin.

"One job, your job might I add and you couldn't even do that."

A glob of spit escaped through her front teeth and splattered against the mirror. A stream of red pumped from her gash and spilled down her forearm, dripping into the bowl of the sink and onto the counter. Her hands shook and her breathing quickened as she watched the blood continue to flow. However, despite the bleeding cut, she didn't feel a thing. Numbness. She could close her eyes and forget she was anything at all. And so she did. The darkness; the pitch black abyss swallowed her whole and she floated weightless and breathless to where nothing could hurt her. Then came the pounding in her chest. Her lungs bouncing against her ribs. She was running out of air.

And with a sudden gasp, she fell back into reality.

Reality, where she wasn't in control of her body.

Reality, where she was a prisoner to a malicious demigod.

"How nice of you to return."

She tapped her tongue against the back of her teeth and cocked her head.

"You wanna know something? I don't think I even remember what I saw in you that made me think you'd valuable to me. Maybe it was convenience. Oh, don't think you're a special little snowflake; you aren't my first and you sure won't be my last. I've broken better people than you in half the time."

Iris' heart raced as she heard his words leave her mouth once more. Watched her lips move to form his words and felt the fires of rage heating up her whole body.

"I'm still here."

And just as suddenly as she regained control, she lost it. Kinwrathi forced her to smile, a sickeningly smug smirk as he laid her arms down around the rim of the sink, smearing blood across the porcelain.

"You are. Guess I must've underestimated you. No matter, because in a couple of moments, it won't matter. None of this will. Bit of a waste of time, but I got plenty of it."

Her right hand hovered over bleeding wrist once more.

"Slow and messy, I promise."

She began to lower her hand, on his suggestion.

"It's almost a shame you won't make it to Warfare, I'd love to meet your cousin in person. Watch as she changes personas for the attention. What? You think that's a real disease she's got? Well, then again you're the one who bought my little story about music that got us here in the first place. Y'know, Iris? I still don't know what's funnier: that you bought that little lie, or that you bought that whole situation as the one that led us here. Since this'll all be over when I want it to be, I guess there's no harm in letting you in on a little secret. I've been here for a long time. Just starting to get comfortable though, really. Again, shame we have to cut this off but I have much more promising target. Maybe your widdle cousin Essence. She can act like me, only she won't be acting this time."

The blade hovered barely an inch from her flesh.

"Did I ever tell you about the look on your dad's face when I--"

Her hand stopped. Dead in its tracks. Kinwrathi made her eyes widen and they darted from the mirror to her frozen hand. The smirk was gone. Iris' right hand pulled away from her bleeding wrist and towards wastebasket adjacent the sink. Her fingers unclenched and the razor blade fell from her hand and landed, rustling the plastic.

"The dog bites back! Enjoy it for a while, I'll be back."

Her eyes fell closed for a seeming eternity and she was back in the abyss. The wonderful world of nothingness where nothing mattered and she wasn't bleeding out from seemingly minor wound.

And then they opened.

She was laying on the bed of her hotel room, staring up at the ceiling. In full control of herself for the first time in forever.

With a severely bleeding wrist cut almost all the way across horizontally.

She gasped and slapped her free, bloodfree hand down across the dresser next to the bed until her hand fell atop the phone. Rolling over, she spotted the number pad and with phone in hand, dialed 9-1-1 with her pinky.

"Nine-One-One, what's your emergency?"

---

Hello once again, XWF.

I'm, well I'm aware I haven't been myself as of late, and for that I apologize from the bottom of my heart.

I'm sorry to anyone whose feelings I hurt with some of my outbursts, or to anyone I may have hurt in any other way.

I'm still getting used to being back, well as in-- nevermind.

Warfare.

Where I have to face off against my cousin.

Hello, Essence.

Or, to be more precise, hello Avantaisha. I see you're still around. I hope you've been doing well. Though, seeing as you're still the same pissed off wannabe gangster you've always been. Apologies for the blunt assessment, but I feel it necessary to demonstrate just how much you haven't changed since last we met. Sheesh, I can't even remember that far back, though to be fair my memory has been something awful as of late, and really I don't need to be going on tangents every minute or so because we're related.

Well, Essence and I are related. Which is the whole reason we know each other.

Right.

I have a question, A. If I may, pardon the rhyme.

Do you think you'll show up for this match? And if so, for how long?

Honestly and truly, answer that. Do you think you'll be out there for the whole thing, without any transitions?

Of course you can't actually think that.

So why are you talking so tough? Like you're on a one woman crusade when in actuality you won't be doing much of the heavy lifting if you even do any at all. Do you talk so much because you're begging for someone to listen? For someone to be interested in what you have to say? So desperate you'll say absolutely anything?

Well, I'm listening.

And I kinda want my cousin back so if you could not take over as often that would be pretty nice.

Thanks.