Now, now. [ Perhaps his voice penetrates this man's head through the sound of his own screaming, or perhaps not. It doesn't seem to matter much to Lucius either way; he slips his sword back into its scabbard with the same fluid grace with which he had drawn it, as if the act were no more or less taxing than cutting the fingers from Daniel's hand. ] This is a polite conversation, little man — no need for weapons.

[ Not that Lucius is particularly large, anymore. The man in front of him just gives off a particularly wretched air, bony and pathetic in spite of his monstrous features.

But, even so—however weak he appears, whatever moment Lucius takes to deliver that barb, what Lucius doesn't do is give him the time to recover from the sudden loss of the better part of two fingers. He steps forward, and now that his sword hand is free once more, it snaps out to catch at Daniel's jaw, fingers mindful of the way his mouth seems to split wider along one side. ]

It looks like you'll be taking her place, after all. [ There's no cup to be had, anymore. Instead, the rim of that vial itself is shoved against Daniel's teeth, Lucius moving to force his head back. ]