Sam was frozen as he looked at Lyria and he could see recognition in her own slightly widened eyes. He most certainly had not expected to meet with her again, let alone here during the worst day of his life. He wasn't sure if her presence here was a good thing or a bad thing. The elf was unpredictable at best. The two stared at each other for a long moment before the elven woman glanced at the woman who had brought him in.

"How did we acquire this one?" Lyria asked.

"I heard he broke in with that group of shadowrunners two days ago. He survived so they tossed him in the test room."

Two days. He had been going through all of that shit in two days? He had only expected a day though that certainly explained his hunger and the dryness of his tongue. He'd never told Lyria what he did for a living and hadn't asked her what she did. That night had more been about mutual satisfaction than learning about each other. Her clothes from what he could see now were those of a high ranking corporate official. Blue dress suit, glasses, likely heels under the desk. She had looked like just another party girl with her cheap clothing. He had guessed there had been more to her.

Her eyes gazed over his tiny nude form and her brow furrowed slightly. "Of course they did. Didn't even care if we had enough human subjects. I'll talk to Doctor Lawson about informing her people about the phasing out of human subjects from search criteria." Lyria said.

"You can take these ones to the lab for dissection. I'll dispose of this one." The elf said, waving a hand at the remaining tubes.

Sam felt his heart sink at that little declaration and was about to try and shout something when Lyria rather carelessly put the test tube down on her desk. For the millionth time the young man was slammed against the glass. He suspected his entire body was going to become one big bruise by the time all was said and done. His mind was awhirl with what might be meant by 'dispose'. Dissolved in acid? Tossed in an incinerator? He did hope that she was joking or using that as a cover but he was currently not that lucky.

Minutes passed and seemed to bleed into hours. Lyria left her desk a couple of times only to return and start clacking away at her computer. He was forced to just watch her work having given up shouting for her attention a few minutes ago. Her slender fingers moved with seemingly a mind of their own, the glint of her blue nail polish occasionally catching the light. All the while he was left to wait in hunger and anticipation, each minute becoming torture as he was reminded of every ache or thirst or hunger. Those might very well not be problems anymore by the time Lyria was finished with him. Shadowrunners were not exactly treated with mercy.

Finally Lyria's fingers wrapped around the tube and deposited it in her purse, jostling Sam around once more. Here he was surrounded by various items, a bottle of blue nail polish, a tube of lipstick and a brush being the ones immediately pressing up against his prison. When Lyria finally started moving the jostling only got much worse as Sam found his balance next to impossible to find. He tried to brace himself with his feet against one wall and his hands flat against the opposite. The fact it was glass made his grip tenuous at best.

He caught occasional glimpses upwards outside of this dark canyon of Lyria's personal affects, gazing upon the elven fingers curled around the purse's handle. He had no idea where he was going or what his fate in those hands was but he figured it was probably better than dissection. The man remembered those same dainty fingers as they had clawed into his chest. Now they could probably annihilate him with a simple squeeze. Sam swallowed and hoped to whatever God might be listening that she was not going to kill him.

They travelled like this for what seemed like hours until they reached what he assumed was her car. The purse was tossed into what was likely the passenger seat, tossing Sam about in his glass prison. One of her smooth creamy hands reached into the purse, causing the tiny man to press back away from it involuntarily. The hand claimed a simple compact mirror and removed it from the dark, wave patterned purse. Just moving that thing would require effort on his part when Lyria could just pick it up like it was nothing. It wasn't until now that it truly sunk in how vulnerable he was in this state.

After a few moments the elf tossed the mirror back into her purse and started up the engine. The vehicle lurched as once more they were moving. This time there was only the ceiling of the car above him. As such Sam took the opportunity with the tube being on its side to crawl on his hands and knees towards the cork. He kicked at the tightly stoppered piece, pushing at the cork with all his might. He wasn't going to just wait here to die. Lyria was a familiar face perhaps but she was still a wild card.

For once, luck was apparently on his side, the cork actually started to budge. It must have been loosely applied and Lyria's careless handling must have loosened it even more. Sam pushed at the cork more and more, straining his muscles and locking his jaw. His face turned red as he strained more and more. He just needed to push the thing enough for him to be able to get out of the damn tube. This was his chance to do something besides wait for something absolutely horrible to happen to him. Maybe his last chance.

Finally his luck seemed to have turned up as the cork budged loose enough for him to push it out fully. With that done he climbed out of the stifling glass tube and into the jungle of Lyria's purse. He stumbled as he stood, trying to find his footing on the fabric of the bottom of the purse. His entire body was one big aching bruise but he seemed to have full range of motion more or less. The hunger stabbing at his stomach was a constant but he saw nothing to alleviate that at the moment, nor for his thirst.

He gazed around at the purse and tried to get a feel for the terrain. Nothing too surprising for a woman's purse was here. A commercial credstick for purchases, her cosmetics, a few scraps of paper here or there. He noted a few sticks of gum lying about in places and a few disposable wipes. Her corporate ID was propped against the far side, recently renewed from the dates. She had some high clearance so she was obviously pretty high up on the ladder. Maybe she was even in charge of this whole operation.

He looked around for a good route out of the purse and saw that her brush was now propped up enough that he could likely climb up it a little before having to climb the fabric. It wasn't too far away either. Once out of the purse... well he'd cross that bridge when it came. He was banking on her taking a while to drive wherever they were going and while the road was smooth it seemed best to make his move. With this plan in mind Sam opted to get moving now before the situation changed.

He stepped onto the surface of the compact mirror and started moving across it, a tiny bump in the road almost throwing him off his balance. It was blue outside though that was no real surprise. Lyria seemed to have a fetish for the damn color. It did look good on her, he had to admit. A bit of blue hair dye would really make her look a bit cuter in his opinion. He could bet she'd do it as well if not for her corporate position. Bastards liked everyone neat and clean and just so.

The trek took him over from the mirror to the credstick. Here he felt the vehicle slow to a halt and felt his blood freeze. The brush was still propped up thanks to the car seat being what it was leaning up against however if she was getting out... that was not good. Curiously the car started moving again then stopped. Was she in traffic? He didn't know what time it was but it looked like it was day time judging from the light filling the vehicle. Was it rush hour maybe? That might very well be good as it gave him more time.

A final start and stop. He heard the window roll down and a muffled voice say something. Then Lyria's clear voice. "Yes, I'd like a Number 3 with no pickles. Iced tea with a lemon for the drink."

Another muffled response. The Lyria again. "Thank you."

She was... going through a drive-in? She was probably making money out the ass, weren't those folks supposed to go to fancy restaurants and shit? Then again... he had met her at some seedy club in Downtown Seattle and they had fucked in his coffin apartment. She was hardly a conventional corporate elf as far as he was concerned. Regardless as he processed the situation he realized a problem here; he was standing on her credstick. By the time he made this realization he could see the shadow of her hand lowering into the purse.

Sam didn't think before he moved, running and then leaping from the credstick as fast as he possibly could. He hit the floor of the purse with a grunt and turned just in time to see Lyria's fingers frighteningly close as they felt around for the item he had just been upon. She removed the credstick from her purse and it had thankfully been without looking. The young man swallowed hard. That had been way too close for his comfort. One second hesitation and he'd have been discovered.

The car started and stopped a couple of times before his captor made her exchange at the window, tossing the credstick back in her purse carelessly. It landed further away from him so breathed a sigh of relief. He could smell whatever it was she had ordered. If he were to be the judge of things it was a taco of some kind. His hunger reasserted itself, pushed down harshly as he finally reached his goal when the car came to a stop. Likely she was eating in the parking lot, more time for him.

The crunch of her distant teeth on her meal provided an irritating backdrop as he grabbed fistfuls of bristles and climbed up the brush. Dark strands of Lyria's silky hair were still attached to the brush, his fingers occasionally losing their grip because he gripped them and not the bristles. The wooden handle was going to be the hardest bit and then it was nothing but fabric. Occasionally the crunch vanished as she likely paused for a drink. Sam hated his own body at the moment as just the thought of water was making him feel weaker. He needed something soon or he'd drive himself mad. So to push himself he imagined some warm food awaited him outside of this canyon.

With a surge of energy he climbed the bristles and reached the wooden handle, breathing heavily from today's stresses. He allowed himself a minute or rest before wrapping his arms around the handle and trying to shimmy his way up the wooden bit. He felt the car start after Lyria finished her meal, pulling out of the fast-food joint and back onto the road. Sam was breathing heavily by now, getting halfway up the handle when his arms started burning in protest. He inched along the brush as best he could, seeming to take hours before he neared the end. Sweat perspired over his body which made keeping a grip rather difficult.

The car slowed down and Sam was nearly to the fabric, it was so close he could taste it. The car stopped. He reached out...

Suddenly gravity shifted.

The purse jerked as Lyria no doubt picked it up and that sent the brush tumbling back. Sam tried to grasp at the fabric but it slipped through his fingers and he ended up thrown to the purses bottom. The force had flung him a bit but thankfully the brush had not landed on him. That probably would have caused some serious damage. He didn't have time to rest on this small mercy as the tube of lipstick rolled towards him. Sam yelped as it caught him off guard, pressing him between it and the credstick.

It hurt. The weight squeezed him and the constant movement of Lyria made it much worse. The air was crushed from his lungs and it became a struggle just to break. This was ridiculous! He was being crushed by a tube of lipstick for crying out loud! How pathetic would that death be? Nothing badass or cool like giving time for the team to get away, crushed by lipstick. Black started to encroach on his vision and his lung felt like they were on fire. This was so stupid... so damn stupid.

Suddenly the pressure left him as the purse was sat down at the lipstick rolled away. Sam breathed heavily, taking in long and greedy gulps of air. He collapsed onto his ass. So much for his daring escape attempt. He vaguely noted the tube he'd been held in being removed, hearing a slight curse from above as a dark shadow filled his vision above. Long strands of dark hair reached into the purse as a pair of blue eyes searched about for a moment before zeroing in on him. A pair of light blue tinted lips curled up at the sight of him.

"Well, you look like shit, Sammy." Lyria's lyrical voice came down.

Far past caring about anything at that point the young man managed to lift his arm and present her his middle finger.

"Oh, I believe we already did that. I do hope your memory wasn't addled in the procedure, its happened before I hear." The elf said with a chuckle.

He didn't try to resist as her hand reached down into the purse and those soft and delicate fingers of hers pulled him from the darkness. She opened her hand and allowed him to lie down on her palm. Sam felt his pain start to melt away when he met the surface, wanting nothing more than to drift off to sleep but forced himself awake as he stared up at Lyria in anticipation. She stared back at him though amusement was more prominent in her blue orbs. He swallowed hard, reminding himself just how dry his throat was.

"W-water." He rasped, choking slightly on his words.

"Hmm? You need to speak up."

"Water!" Sam cried out, coughing slightly.

Her eyes seemed to light up at that. "Ah, yes, I imagine you are probably thirsty. We don't typically bother to feed or water the test subjects since they are dissected anyway." Lyria stated, carefully setting him down on what looked and felt like a counter. Marble if he had to guess.

The elf departed for a moment, returning a moment later with some bottled water. She uncapped it and poured a small amount into the cap, placing it down near Sam. The street samurai didn't feel shame as he crawled over to it and started cupping handfuls out and guzzling it down greedily. He'd done what he had needed to do on the streets to survive before, this was nothing different. The water ran down his cheeks in tiny streams but he didn't stop. When he finally did stop his throat felt much clearer and his body felt tolerably more human. Still tiny but it was a hell of a start.

Lyria was leaning against the counter, her hand pressing up against one of her cheeks and the elbow supporting it all. She was watching the whole thing with less amusement and more curiosity. When he looked done she poured a little more out anyway before offering up a bit of bread. Sam eyed it warily though his body screamed at him to savage the wheat product like it was his first meal.

"Is- is this a last meal?" He asked warily.

Lyria shrugged casually though her eyes flashed dangerously. "It can be if you'd rather die than live like that. Pretty simple job for me really, light squeeze, or stomp and you're gone." She said.

Sam swallowed visibly, nervous. "I like living. Death's so... finite, you know?" He said, chuckling a little nervously as he tried to be charming.

"I agree. So in that case, eat, drink, and we'll talk about that. I'm especially keen to hear about the whole shadowrunning bit. Depending on what I believe there I might just dispose of you anyway." The elf said, frowning at the end.

Sam knew what that likely meant. She thought he had sought her out and manipulated her to get in. That their little meeting hadn't been exactly random. He grabbed at the torn piece of bread and started chomping away. It was probably the best thing he had ever tasted considering the circumstances. He occasionally paused to take a long drink, well aware of the eyes upon him through the entire thing. All the while he was going through what he was going to say. His breaking out of his test tube, which had seemed a great idea at the time, now seemed much less so. Rather incriminating really.

Really though he doubted Lyria had much room to talk regarding manipulation. She spent spare nights trolling about lower clubs, looking for random schmucks to dominate. Sam had been one of those schmucks technically but really he doubted most could blame him. The gun to the head bit had certainly been a new one for his bedroom antics. There was also something else he had picked up in her words, regarding him living like this. Sam was serious about wanting to live but being tiny for the rest if his possibly short life was not exactly ideal. He supposed he was getting what he had wished for in a way, a life of danger.