Dualscar's upper lip rises in a snarl when the Psiioniic kicks him, and he almost belts him across the face for it. But when he shifts forward, his hand clenched into a fist, the way his weight moves sends a dull, pleasant ache pounding up from between his legs, and he stops himself. He remembers the lightshows curling all around him last night, and the way all the books started floating in the library, and he gets some glimmer of appreciation for everything the Psiioniic is giving up, even if only for a short time.

He drops his fist and instead brushes some dust off his knee where the other troll kicked him. Then, just as the Psiioniic fell into the role of a slave, Dualscar embraced the persona of a highblood, holding himself erect and arrogant, his face gone cold and cruel, his eyes glittering purple chips of ice inside his skull.

"Outside. Now."

The words are short, clipped, orders barked from a rough throat, and he turns, his cape billowing behind him, and strides outside to wait for the captain.