Triumphant return

[Oriena]

She was bored.

Oriena cared nothing for history. Her fingers itched only with the urge for casual destruction; burrowed like rot within her enemy's heart, it was her only burning desire. The power purred against those thoughts, inciting idle hands to mischief. He'd have been wiser to give her something to do. Left to her own devices, Ori thought only of her own amusement. Why did the Atharim even keep this stuff? Her fingers trailed a row of spines, the moroseness of her expression lightening when an idea sparked.

She was kind enough to allow Jaxen the time to dig out whatever the fuck it was they came for first. As for Ori, she came only for the opportunity to toss a gauntlet.

Tick tock, Jaxen. She began to let the power trickle in, one sweet drop at a time.

Then, a distraction.

Ori turned as footsteps beyond touched her newly heightened senses. Her gaze flickered to the fake White with the shadow of a smile, then sauntered over to the door. A calculating hand grasped the handle moments before it opened outward. "Oh."
They stood toe to toe, just shy of a collision. Ori blocked the doorway, and knew it. Stormy eyes glanced upwards, touched by a veil of curious warmth. It was just one of the security guys. "Sorry. Hi."