[Slaves scatter away from Dualscar as he strides back through the palace, and he puts his highblood face back on: the face of the Orphaner, of the feared, violent seadweller, the kind who pulls slaves into shadowy corridors and does as he pleases, the kind who would take what he pleases, when he pleases, and never question his right to do so.]
[It's easy to fall into the role, although Dualscar plays it now more than he ever did before. Now it's not just his life that depends upon it, but Psii's as well, and Sonica's. He has to be what they expect and want to see.]
[The party is beginning to wind down by the time he reappears, and he swirls through the thinning crowd, socializing and smirking and playing his part. He keeps an eye on the clock, though, and when it's late enough, he slips away.]
[No one notices, and if they do, they don't question it.]
[He snaps at a random slave, ordering him to go find the troll who wears his sign, and waits as the terrified slave skitters off, his stomach roiling with anxiety. Psii can't be back in his arms soon enough.]
no subject
[It's easy to fall into the role, although Dualscar plays it now more than he ever did before. Now it's not just his life that depends upon it, but Psii's as well, and Sonica's. He has to be what they expect and want to see.]
[The party is beginning to wind down by the time he reappears, and he swirls through the thinning crowd, socializing and smirking and playing his part. He keeps an eye on the clock, though, and when it's late enough, he slips away.]
[No one notices, and if they do, they don't question it.]
[He snaps at a random slave, ordering him to go find the troll who wears his sign, and waits as the terrified slave skitters off, his stomach roiling with anxiety. Psii can't be back in his arms soon enough.]