Snippet #2668676

It was no longer panic that seemed to swallow Piper whole, but genuine fury. She had a weapon on her that she could use later, didn't she? Yes... yes. A revolver. She'd blow his miserable, pathetic brains out and then wash his body in Alchemist's fire. She didn't exactly know how to make it, but it couldn't be hard, she knew basic ingredients described in her history book.

Though then it occurred to her that she could only do this if she wasn't about to die. She had just about gone limp with her own hopelessness in self pity, when suddenly she saw the inhaler zipping at her forehead. Her hand flew upward and her fingers closed around it, though she had to fumble for it a few moments due to the sticky mess from the boy's slobber.

She took a final gasp in, holding her breath as she wiped the slobber off on her jacket. Her shaky hands removed the cap and simply threw it off to the side in her own desperation as she began to shake the apparatus, careful not to let it slip from her hands again. She let herself breathe completely out, before putting the thing to her mouth. It took all her willpower to keep things patient, controlled, and most importantly; not to slam her thumb down on the decompresser all at once like a button for detonation.

She could breathe again, she could feel it. She repeated the steps after counting to thirty in her head, and it occurred to her that this experience was like kissing her tormentor, like, with tongue, not even a quick and begrudging peck on the lips. The thought nearly made her throw away the breathing aid entirely and just allow the bittersweet embrace of death wash over her. But no, no...

Once her breathing had calmed down, she found that escaping the ropes was an easier task. After pocketing the inhaler, she simply had to move a few coils, adjust a position, tuck in one of her knees... and abracadabra, she fell straight to the ground.

Standing back up was more difficult than it seemed. Her limbs shook and wobbled, trying to refuse any kind of labour after that ordeal, but she gave her torturer/saviour the once-over, resisting the urge to bite her nails once she'd taken in how genuinely tall and fit he was. She couldn't just throw a punch at him, no... no... it was better to just...

"Th... Thank you..." She exhaled, taking in the unfamiliar amounts of oxygen with each breath. "I... You... You saved my life... I..." She trailed off, trying to find some sort of distraction. "I-I have er..." She trailed off, trying to think of something...

She'd heard his stomach growl a bit, he'd gone to eat the inhaler without even looking over what it was. Was he hungry? Could she use that?

"Supplies! Food!" She exclaimed breathlessly, her scrawny arm throwing itself out to point behind her in the wreckage of the airship. "I-It's ah... it's good, good food. I'd like to r... r-repay you. Here I... I'll get it!"

She didn't wait for him to respond, she simply lunged toward the wreckage of what was her father's ship. Would he see through this plan and grab her? After all, it was relying solely on the boy's stupidity. He was a backwards religious fanatic, just like the rest of the Illmorian people, how intelligent could he be?

For her sake, hopefully he was on par with a rock.