Oh, that was not quite the best way to play this situation.

Distance would be closed between the taller, possessed man and Ophrem as she stepped up to him. There was no bluffing in her bravery, her complete disregard for the danger that had already made itself known to her.

"Do not give me zat absolute bullshit." she hissed, her hand extending and a singular finger coming to jab Hauk straight in the middle of his chest, her nail corrupting, sharpening with a tinge of depravity as her skin continued to lighten, taking on the tone of undeath. "I do not give two shits about ze death of ze dragon. 'ostile, a zreat, do or die, fine. W'atever.

"W'at I care about is the complete and utter lack of concern for 'ow one's actions would affect 'is family. I 'ave spoken at length wis madame and ze little ones, not only just about monseiur Brakkacia but monseiur Fildegarde as well. Ze men zat zey describe..."

That ephemeral claw would dig as she drug it down his chestpiece slowly, her hand shaking from her building anger and leaving a new scratch amongst the several other that no doubt littered his battle-worn armor.

"Are not ze ones I see anymore. You pretend zat you are 'elping... But you are no better zan ze ones you fight against. A monster. A rapist, molester, twisting ze ones around you. Ze ozers may not see, but I do, oh..."

She laughed, the sound laced with an otherworldly growl as she stepped back, her claw parting his armor with a light metallic screech and turned away from him, her fists clenching as her head tilted down.

"I do. I 'ave known zis since ze first time I met zat artificial shell of un oiseau. Make zis up to 'er..." She scoffed, still refusing to turn toward him as her own blood began to pool in little beads as her nails dug into her own flesh. "Do not pretend zat you actually care. You are a mimickry of 'umanity.

"Nozing less..." Her head turned, glaring at Hauk over her right shoulder. "And nozing more."
(Ophrem Levonte)
At first, the possessed marshall is flippant.

The use of profanity leads to another, overexaggerated eye roll clearly intended to try to belittle her without words, mere moments away from bringing up his hand to make mocking gestures. He opens his mouth to respond. midway through her discussion as to 'Family'. "And there is no reason his family should not be HAPPY for him," He attempts to talk over Ophrem, but he goes deathly silent when she begins talking about that which was not Hauk 'directly'.

At first, his face simply stiffens. The creature, unlike it's charge, was not prone to blushing, be it with anger or embarassment, beyond as a deliberate affect. The faint grind of metal gauntlets being squeezed together too tightly creaks out, as he then stares at nobody but Ophrem herself.

He snarls noisily, that black, crystalline coating covering his teeth and forming them into jaws for ripping and rending.  Hauk Fildegarde's body does not strike her- But at the claw squeals down into the aged armor, a surge of void would splash at the ethereal appendage, as though simply oozing out of his skin- Dissolving at it like acid, disrupting the mana manifestation into the physical realm.

The man still manages to use his height to leer over the taller-end young woman, the scarred soldier's warped visage unkind and his masked pretense dropping under words that scored their mark.

"This one protects this one's own. Do not play. Do not meddle. If you poison this one's wards, allow this one to assure you- You will not enjoy it. This one cares more than any 'human' that plays about in their own self-aggrandization, mark this one's words." A forcible sneer, unable to entirely close his lips with his bestial affectation crawls. "This is this one's warning for one. If you interfere with this one attempting to help- In spite of this shortsighted, FOOLISH whimpering- Am not under oath not to punish one."

"And punishment is oft what they call for from this one." A last little clacking snap- And he steps back, and then around her, trying to force his way past her with minimal contact.

He would speak through actions not wo- Alright, the action WAS a bunch of words, but intent MATTERED.

"CHARLIE AVALINE." His voice booms, trying to strainedly force a cordial tone- It half succeeds, sounding fake and saccharine. "This one has business to discuss with one."
(Hauk Fildegarde)
Charlie Avaline: <*Is sleeping with earplugs*>
The return from the Trystle would be a bumpy one with Alia's injury. Nonetheless, they'd make it. Before a step could be set into the Brakkacia household, Charlie's superior hearing could capture a particularly unnerving voice exchanging with her maid. Eyebrows rose as a curious look slowly formed on her visage. What could the freakshow want today?

Still holding the young drakanite's hand, the doctor would step in just as she would be summoned by the entity. Now that was style.

"Mmmm? You called?"

With a slightly over-the-top gay tone. A cocky grin formed as she'd direct her blue eyes toward Hauk. Or rather the possessed marshal who was but a proxy to the entity behind it all. An monstrosity she admired but also saw as a dispicable obstacle to a lot of things in this world.

"Sweetie, if you want you can go to the lab or just sit here. Ophrem will kindly help you with that wounds, alright?"

Never had she glanced at the girl, as her optics remained fixed on the entity. Though a quick look was thrown at Ophrem when the accent was set on Atlas' favorite word. Arms were crossed when her eyes would once again fixate the being that had settled itself in her home.

"So, I'm listening. What is it that you want, Sareen? Is it okay if I call you that? I don't know what else to call you, really."

Her foot would reach for a chair behind her, dragging it until her bottom could nest itself comfortably upon it. She'd then gesture to the nearest available seat.

"Oh and please, make yourself at home. Can't talk business without at least some hospitality."
(Charlie Avaline)
Ophrem Levonte: If you zink I am making 'er tea you are out of your fucking mind.
The walk back is still somehow more fun than the walk there, considering he rmood on the way. Whodathunk that getting stabbed in the arm by some crystal because you were a little to zealous mining with a water jet would still feel better than emotional turmoil in a dangerously close to purbescent young girl wondering about her place in life. But, that's the case! Despite occasional mostly annoyed groans of pain, the trip back is fine! And they sure did get a buncha Mithril for her to practice with, and hopefully make that guy's eye, too!

Oh geez, she's gonna have to use her right arm, since the left is probably outta commission until the probable chip in her bone heals. Hpefully, that stuff Charlie put on it works some magic, because she's liable just to use the other arm until it's fine again. The perks of forcing ambidextrous hammer weilding on herself finally pay off! If not, in a somewhat underwhelming way. It would only really be worth if she lost an arm or something. Please do not let her lose an arm in the future.

But, it would be hard to tell she's hurt at all, aside the bandarded up shoulder and upper arm, and little dab of red right in the middle of the treated area. She comes walking in hand in hand with Charlie, into what... kinda feels like an awkward scene in the making. Starting to be a pattern in this household, it feels like. She walks on over, and she hops herself up, sitting on the edge of the nearest table in the stead of taking a seat near it, and cupping her hamds along the rounded edge. Nope. She's gonna sit right here, watch and listen with eyes wide and mostly if not wholly expressionless, a little ghost of a smile gracing her expression as she kicks her legs to and fro. Another six months, and they might just be touching the floor. Girl's no doubt going to easily break the six foot marker, at this rate.
(Alia Uniana)
Her eye would remain fixated upon Hauk over her shoulder, those white pupils staring into him, deep, defiant. His words did little to threaten her, as menacing and powerful as he may be. Ophrem had dealt with shady characters all her life. Malevolent spirits on a daily basis. She housed a goddamn demon inside of her, bound to obedience through her will.

This man, this being, was nothing. And those eyes, cold and calculating, dared him to make a move, to feed his own rage and prove the young marshlander right.

But of course, Charlie would be the knife that would slice through the tension like butter. Her hues darted away from Hauk, coming to rest first on the pink-haired woman, her mistress, and then upon hearing her words they would quickly dart to Alia. The one whom this little altercation, almost bordering on violence, had been started out of concern for the little tyke. And her wounds...

Well. That was enough, at least, to distract Ophrem from her fury, and perhaps save the young witch from finding her head going through a wall.

Hauk would be able to move unopposed as she turned to Alia, walking over to where the little girl sat and kneeling down in front of her. The depraved, corrupted claws upon her right hand disappated quickly, though the deadly pallor of her flesh would only slowly recede as worry replaced hatred.

"Madamoiselle..." she whispered softly, reaching out and gingerly placing her cold hands upon Alia's arms as she looked her over. "Are you alright?"

Indeed, it looked as if the child had gone through quite a bit in the past few hours. As she looked her over, she would chuckle softly, reaching up and brushing the hair off of her forehead. Her anger... It was not forgotten. But it was silenced.

For now.
(Ophrem Levonte)