Pinkgothic played:

Adrethyrian, Cyrex [CR-3X] and Nechku

The beast was sleeping, black scales heaving in slow rhythm with his breathing, white, hair-like feathers lying as a matted mane against its long neck, disturbed only in a scruff around the collar attached to its throat. Its forelegs lay nearly parallel, heavy wrists cast in similar iron shackles, and from the three ran linked chains into the ground, greatly restricting the creature's movement even in waking hours.

A whisper tested the syllables of that exotic name, cherishing each with its own distinct pause: "Adrethyrian." Nechku's gloved hand drifted an inch removed from the mane as if stroking along it, not touching, both profoundly respectful of the creature's strength as well as distinctly unafraid, though the vicinity to a beast who's jaws could snap her bones with ease if he tried and who's almost scissor-like foreclaws could gut her with an instant motion excited her. She wasn't going to wake him, for he would do these things if she did and was that close. One hand would slide to clench her throat while the other would stab forward into her innards and split those virtual organs, and blood would gush forth and around that invading paw and her life would leak o-

"Nechku," a soft voice announced itself, familiar. "We need to speak."

Automatically, she took a step back from her captive, turning her shoulders and casting her gaze back with grace, the combination assuring that she'd be out of range if the monster decided to wake and lash out, while simultaneously letting her acknowledge the a-life without being rude. And then she was turning properly, glancing up at the xenomorph so near to her, reaching up her right hand to stroke its palm across that shiny carapace, smiling with a childish wonder for an instant, before asking: "What can I do for you?"

"The anomaly." Cyrex stepped back to allow her more room to escape those potentially lashing claws, dipping his head respectfully as well as rubbing it against that palm in their token gesture of familiarity, it brief and as quick to end as it began. His head rose again. "I have spoken to him."

That netted her attention, eyes abruptly focussing. "How?"

Beyond them, the tired beast rumbled lowly, stirring subtly, snapping one silver eye open to cast its seeking gaze onto Nechku, narrowing in a silent, resigned flavour of hatred.

"He spoke through Frederick, initially appearing to rant at Sirena that she was still alive. He killed her two days ago - I brought her back with Stacksmash's permission and aid," Cyrex summarised. He allowed the information to be digested, lightly inclining that massive head as he waited, then continued with the proposition. Nechku was not one of the network, but she was supporting them, and she was an honoured guest, so her opinion was going to be factored in. "He is aware that we would not kill all our guests to save them from him, but willing to 'compromise'." As much as a grimace could distort the facial features of a xenomorph, his distorted. "I am not sure what to do." Black shoulders sagged, and the entire creature followed not long after, slumping to the floor, raising that head to 'look' at Nechku. "I want him gone. I have never wished ill upon another, but I want to find him, if he is even human, and destroy him. Will you help me?"

Nechku sank to her knees, setting both hands against the cool skin of the a-life's avatar, feeling a childish excitement knot in her belly. A hunt? There had been a time when she had been good at that, until she'd grown bored, but that was so many years ago now that it seemed fresh and exciting, especially given the potential target. "What would you like me to do?" she asked, eyes glowing with a sincere desire to involve herself and that only thinly contained glee.

An uncharacteristic darkness crept into Cyrex's voice, testament to his loathing of that shapeless, cruel monster he knew only from stories of the affected and spotty, inconsistent, interpretable data, as he spoke:

"If you can... find him - and trap him here."