Tremsilla's uneasiness at the whole situation took the best of her. Certainly, no one particularly cared for Octavian, but they couldn't just leave him like that without taking steps to try to at least improve the situation. If she would supress her sigil, she could investigate and Tacitus would be none the wiser. The place sent chills down her spine and the sooner they would leave, the better. With a deep cleansing breath, she steeled her gaze and peered into the magus' mind. It took her a while to get her bearings at first but her concentration had been honed to an edge through years of study and duties as a quaesitore.
Yet, the result of the spell had gone beyond the boundaries of what it was supposed to do. She found herself inside a dream? Or maybe a memory. She had no control over her actions. She was merely a spectator through the eyes of another. It was a surreal experience but for now she pressed on. She found herself in a cramped but otherwise pleasant room. There was a bed off to the side and a boudoir in the corner near a curtained window. From the angle of the light, she noticed it was near dusk. She desperately tried to urge herself towards the mirror, but to no avail. Just as she considered releasing a spell, she heard the faint sound of a door opening. the person she was inhabiting, for lakc of a better word, walked towards the boudoir. "Finally!" thought Tremsilla. But she did not catch so much as a glimpse through the tarnished mirror before the form leaned over to look through what appeared to be a peep hole.
In the other room, stood a tall lanky girl with dark hair and beautiful doe eyes. It took her some time to place her, but she finally recognized the woman as Relegare. Tremsilla suppressed the urge to lash out. She had no evidence that she could even control her actions and if she were to lose concentration the spell would surely end. Relegare, was quickly undressing. It was strange to see her as her usual self after being accustomed to the image of her as some wretch stuck in the donjon beneath Duresca for so many years. She reached for a jewelry box, but snapped it closed as someone else entered the room. Tremsilla recognized him immediately as octavian. Although he appeared younger, and his robes were a more vibrant blue than the dappled blue-black they were now.
Tremsilla felt the sentation of goose bumps all over her skin as the two magi conversed. She could recognize it as Latin, but for the most part it came off as gibberish to her. Likely due her host not understanding it. What she saw startled her. relegare approached the younger Octavian and she could tell, she was trying to seduce him. She caressed his cheek and peered directly into those sinister green eyes. Relegare leaned over closer. Octavian had taken her by the wrist and leaned over closer as if to kiss her? No, he whispered something to her. Tremsilla couldn't believe what she was seeing and then chaos.
Suddenly, Relegare keeled forward, before Octavian smashed his elbow at the base of her neck. The Flambeau fell to her hands and knees. Before she could get back to her feet or cast a spell, the Tremere stomped the delicate fingers of her left hand with the heel of his boot. Relegare cried out in silent pain as she clutched her now broken hand to her chest to try to ease the pain. This exposed her side to a hard kick to the kidneys that sent her crashing into the side of her bed.
Tremsilla's felt her heart gripped with fear. She wanted to close her eyes to be spared the brutality of the assault, but her host was paralyzed. She watched as Relegare slowly crep away towards the wall where the Host was peeping from. She was begging, pleading. all the while, those eyes seemed to burn two holes through everything they saw. the racket had caused a ruckus elsewhere in the building and she could hear someone trying to rbeak down the door but the Tremere had braced a chair against the handle to keep them out.
When finally her vision was obscured by Relegare's back, Tremsilla's host was able to turn away. She felt the whole body shivering as it pressed its back against the wall to desperately avoid having to see. relegare finalyl spoke in words she could clearly udnerstand. Some spanish curses, intermingled with latin. Her voice was erratic and slack jawed from a vicious punch she had sustained to the face. Octavian had been systematic in reducing her ability to invoke spells. Finally, Relegare apepared to stop. Instead, there was a faint gasping noise for a good 10 to 15 seconds. Tremsilla heard relegare being pulled up to her feet along the wall, likely by the neck from the chocking sound. She finally udnerstood the words now coming from the Tremere's mouth: "I apologize, for what I am about to do is unforgiveable."
Then suddenly, Relegare screamed in sheer terror. It was unnatural and terrifying. Tremsilla's host covered her ears but it did little good. She could hear Relegare struggle against the thin walls but to no avail. Finally, after what seemed like eternity. She had stopped and her body fell limply to the ground. Everything turned to black. Tremsilla thought she had finally seen the end. But it continued, over, and over again. Replaying constantly. She tried to break free but she was trapped. She wanted to scream for help...