"Breekan's right, Temrash," says Corliss as they gather around him outside. "We simply can't let Ardiss leave here, after having been inside Tara, knowing what she knows."
He remains relatively quiet while the others go back and forth about Ardiss' fate, and as he walks with Ossanlin and the others back to the bar, he mulls over what has transpired. He had missed part of the conversation, too. He approaches Temrash as he sets the little impromtu pool on the bar counter, following him to where Gaz is sitting. "Temrash, what plan do you have? If you have an alternative to killing Ardiss, I'd like to know what it is. We could attempt to imprison her, or put her in stasis, but I have a sneaking suspicion death would be more merciful, and certainly more secure for us. Still, I don't relish the idea of having to kill a helpless prisoner."
"Oh, Jesus, please don't cry," Myitt tells Kara, grimacing, looking up when Temrash walks back in with the little pool.
<Well, that was anticlimactic,> Tara says dully.
Myitt sighs. "She can't hurt you now, Kara. I'm a friend. My name is Myitt, remember? Tara and I...and Mar...we all want to help you. But you can help us by telling us how you got here. We want to make sure Ardiss can't hurt anyone again." She can't help but feel touched at Mar and Temrash's conviction to her well being, and she smiles a little at poor Mar, who is clearly drunk and still in pain. Myitt looks down at her Dracon, which is still in her left hand. "Do you still want this?" she asks Shal, holding up the gun, its nose pointed down.
((Don't worry Chad, I think you're doing a great job, as long as you're having fun that's all that counts. All of our characters are pretty screwed up here, in their own ways, anyway
Yeerks with the audacity to befriend their hosts, exiled interrogators, children of Crayak, an Andalite female with a penchant for jager, a moralizing Andalite War-Prince who wields katanas,
Mar...don't even get me started on the bar itself... x3 ))
