[There are some sounds of thrashing, and choking sounds that are somewhere between COMPLETELY AGONIZED and ANGRY AS HELL. It's a short while before Shinzon speaks, and when he does, it's raspy and pretty damn pain filled.]

Not yet, I said not yet!

[He managed to yell that last bit, which leaves him pretty out of breath and dizzy; which is apparent by that thumping sound of him falling over. He mumbles to himself, mostly too quiet to hear, but every now and then phrases like 'Romulan whore' pop up.]

I need more time! [And then there's just labored breathing. Shinzon's life sucks.]

(((Okay so! Shinzon's been missing since the Masterworld port. He took advantage of the chaos and hopped on a ride off world. He's had maybe a month or two out in the real world to find out that the Remans broke off from the Romulan Empire but aren't exactly flourishing, that Romulus is actually dealing with the Federation, and that Commander Donatra, the ho that betrayed him, is in a really, really prominent position. (OH AND PICARD HAS A BABY ON THE WAY. SHINZONSMASH.) Shinzon had all these plans about 'fixing' things, but without a magic fix, his cellular structure started breaking down again. Without any help this time, he died pretty much alone and in agony. So. Shinzon is going to be extra awful from here on out. :>)))

This has been a study in uselessness. Self-evaluation forms? What amounts to a time out?

I am finished. Send me home. This is a waste. My people need me.

(((Someone's taking Judas' disappearance badly. Unexpectedly. :| Derp.)))

[He's in Zero and bored and hates everyone.]

I can't believe none of you are intelligent enough to realize it was not a bomb.

In case any of you are specially slow learners, let me be quite clear: it was not a bomb.

Destro was exceptionally mistaken. It wasn't a neutron bomb that killed you. It wasn't a neutron bomb that attacked your systems and rotted your flesh and emptied your bodies of moisture.

One grows tired of hearing such falsities repeated so damned frequently.

[For the most part, Shinzon was inordinately pleased with his work. The people he'd wanted dead were largely dead. Well - they had been. A pity he had to deal with their return. A pity someone else was claiming responsibility for HIS hard work - but it was all right. It would keep him from spending yet more wasted time in Zero.

Still, he'd yet to enter the infirmary. He'd yet to see what it looked like, after. The thought intrigued him. So he retrieved Kahlan's journal from her room, and walked down the hall. The place was a mess, and he kept the smugness from his face, finding his warden.

He didn't offer false sympathy; he didn't want to put himself in a situation where he would have to lie too much to her. Her ability to discover his falsities were infuriating.]

Here.

[He reached her bed side and held the journal out, lips pressed in a thin line.]

I have a favor to ask.

[Private to Kahlan]

I need a weapon. A knife will be suitable.

[Shinzon is not happy. Not happy at all. He's in a lot of pain, but he is really accustomed to fighting bodily agony, so the only emotion he's sending out is rage.]

Where is he?

[For all those poor schmucks in the infirmary, Shinzon is puling off whatever bandages he has around his neck, intent on getting the hell out of there.]

Where is he?

[Filtered away from Kahlan]

Does anyone know how to mend-- [A pause, because he needs to figure out what the hell to call it.] --a stuffed bear?

[Dryly, with some vague confusion:] Why is there coal in my room?

[Private to Judas]

Thank you for the wine. It smells excellent.

The potential.

I will not be his echo. I will not. And I won't live in his shadow.

Should have left me dead!

[And those sounds are the sounds of Shinzon destroying the bow common room on the second floor.]