The Mini adventures of Miss Mineva Zabi Part II / Gotta get a bigger gun

[zeonfunnelcake]

1] Sometime after lunch it seemed the little princess had slipped her guards and was walking free through the Chalice. She looked quite pleased with herself, and it showed in the way she nearly skipped across the floor, only her iron clad manners held her hands at her side. It was maybe a bit startling to see such a young child so polished as Mineva was, but it was to be expected of a princess, wasn't it?

"Excuse me," She tugs on the hem of your jacket, shirt or tunic, looking up with questioning eyes. "Where dose the coffee come from?"


2] All the while Haman was standing in front of her Qubeley, with roll after roll of schematics in her hands. She opened each other individually, looking it over, and then up and her machine and back to the paper again. Usually this ended in a scoffing sound, a wave of her hand, and a dismissal of the data.
"No, it's not enough. I need something fit for..." A monster. "... a queen." She shook her head. "Those boys at RnD are really slipping if this is the best they can come up with." Where was a brilliant weapon's developer when she needed one? Hell, even a knowledgeable mechanic would serve at this point.

3] [Locked]
Sleep would not come again tonight, and Haman sought the only solace for the whispered she knew. Moving soundlessly on bare feet she sough Mineva's bed, and curled herself around the child. The warm, softness of a child's touch, the sound of her tiny heart beating, the fragility of this treasure soothed her at time like this, when her mind and heart felt lost in the very cosmos they 'ruled'. Because she possessed Mineva Haman had gained control of the greatest power Zeon had to give, the fate of all spacenoids rested in her hands but only so that she may someday pass that murder to Mineva.
Haman touched the child's palm with her finger. Such tiny hands, had her own once seemed so innocent and clean? Haman mourned the loss of her innocents long ago, but it was a price worth paying if it saved Mineva from the same life she had suffer through.
And more than that, the child was a bargaining chip that kept Char in the palm of her hand. Her anger at him had burned out, and left a cold hollow in her soul, but it did not tarnish her love for him. No matter how bad he was for her, or she for him, Haman could not deny him, or her desire. She knew in her heart that she would destroy any obstetrical, any weapon, any person she had to, if it meant further endearing herself to him. But it was peace he wanted, so then she would throw herself upon the slings and axes of the federation until it was smothered under the weight of her fury. What ever it took, Haman would do it. That was the simple truth she had found in her time to think. That no pain he could cause her would hurt as much, as being all alone again.