And where is all that bravado from a moment ago? [ Again, he laughs, wild in his mirth. Now, he spares a glance at the woman beside him. Now, he touches her for the first time since he'd cornered her against the doorway of the diner, his hand whipping out to close itself around her throat. ]
I wonder: what will you do to see me let her go? [ He dangles the vial between his fingers, idly swirling it back and forth as he inclines his head in a posture that would nearly seem playful, is not for the very real threat of those claws around another person's neck. ] Perhaps you'd like to come here and take her place? As I told her, all I wanted was to have a little drink. You'll serve just as well as she could, I'm sure.
[ Attack, surrender, or flee—Lucius' grin is wide on his face as he waits for this man to make his choice. ]
Calling it a "choice" would be generous. When he sees Lucius grip the woman's neck, his nervous system sparks and then catches fire, a brilliant blaze of anger that smothers the meek man underneath.
(His father had grabbed his mother's neck once. He remembers bleeding on the floor, his eyes blind with tears as he struggled to catch his breath. "That's enough!" his mother had said, and then she was wordless, gasping, as his father exerted his control.)
He lunges at Lucius, the knife gripped tightly in his hands. There's no skill, no technique in his attack. It's animalistic rage. A beast exerting control.]
[ As soon as Daniel moves, the hand on that woman's neck is gone. It's a lunge so empty of technique that it doesn't even deserve the honor of his sword—and yet, that is exactly what it receives, this world so devoid of even the pettiest cause to draw his blade that he can't resist the chance now. With the same casual ease with which a man might bat away a child's hand, Lucius draws and strikes in a single fluid movement, the edge of his blade slicing through the night air toward that little knife.
(Lucius, too, recalls a memory from a boyhood countless lifetimes old: some homeless wretch, an insult, his blade drawn, the spatter of blood pouring from a cut throat, simply to see if he could—)
His sword's edge intercepts the clumsy arc of Daniel's knife—and, if Daniel is unlucky, perhaps a few of the fingers clutching it as well. ]
[At first, he doesn't feel pain -- just pressure, just dizziness, as though his body is falling from a great height. When he blinks, he recognises that his blade on the ground along with two, bloody pieces of flesh.
Half of his index finger. Half of his middle finger.
That's when he feels the pain.
He screams wordlessly, clutching his hand against his chest as his wings fold up, his body curling in itself without quite collapsing. ]
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. ]
[Little man. He's heard those words before, hasn't he? Through his pain, images from the network shudder across his mind, jittering flashes of courier font curling into cruel, mocking words.
I look forward to the day your spine snaps beneath the weight of that delusion, hungry little man.
His scream twists as the vial meets his lips, as his head is wrenched backwards and the liquid forces itself inside. He gasps. Chokes. Garbles. The whole scenario feels eerily familiar, only he could swear he belongs on the other side of it, with his hands forcing a concoction into someone's mouth. For a moment, he tastes rose, and his legs swoon, his body nearly dropping down to the ground below. ]
Focus, Daniel.
[He doesn't realize he's speaking aloud. His words are drunk with pain, and his eyes are unfocused. ]
Daniel, is it! [ Lucius feels the involuntary swallow beneath his fingers, and as Daniel sways in his hand, the grip of his fingers abruptly falls away from where it has held him fast. Again, he laughs, and in the stillness of the evening, the sound is uproarious. ] You look every bit as wretched as you sound, don't you?
[ Whether Daniel manages to remain upright, or whether his legs give out beneath him and he sinks to the sidewalk, it doesn't matter. No matter which, Lucius leans in close, cruel eyes and cruel smile widening with excitement as they loom inches from Daniel's face. ]
[The readiness with which the words leave his mouth surprise him, as though they've been torn from his throat. He staggers backwards with wide eyes, his injured hand clutched tightly to his chest. ]
I've done this before. I remember. I held a man's head and-- and I forced him to drink something! It tasted like a rose, the drink you gave me, but only in my mind. Was that what I gave the man? Did it taste like roses?
[He gulps down a breath, his eyes darting from left to right before settling on Lucius in a panic. ]
I wonder. [ The sneering, wild humor in his voice is gone, but he sounds no less cruel for the sudden contemplation in his tone. He holds the vial up to his own eye level, swishing it between his fingers, watching as the remaining liquid within swirls within—and then he caps it, shoulders rolling in a shrug as if the answer to Daniel's question is of no real concern to him.
By the time he lifts his eyes from the mysterious chemical back to Daniel, the broad, toothy grin is already back, and he asks, ] Not so innocent after all, are you?
[ It's rarely a good sign when a man of justice and virtue finds his actions echoed in those of an amoral monster. Lucius would know; he has stood on both sides of that gulf. ]
[He hates that he can't control himself, that the words are flowing unabated from his mind to his mouth. It's terrifying in the way a seizure is terrifying. The panic reflects in his eyes, in the way his uninjured hand tenses and relaxes. His mind is not his own.
And this man is to blame.]
What did you do to me?!
[It's the same question as before, only louder now, furious in its fear and anguish. There's no doubt he's outmatched, but for a moment, it looks like he's considering tearing into Lucius with his bare hands. Or his teeth. ]
[ So he tries to wash away his guilt with the blood of other men. The thought comes to Lucius, and it makes him laugh again. There are things he might say to that, but before the humor of it all can abate enough for him to speak again, Daniel is yelling at him, and the threat of those words only serves to make him laugh anew.
This time, the sound is harsh and brief. ]
Then come and kill me, if you think you can! [ Mania floods his face with the words, and he throws his arms wide as if to beckon Daniel into an embrace. ] Maybe this time, I'll take your whole hand!
[He hisses the words as fear overcomes him once again, his eyes darting strangely as he wrestles with his tongue. ]
He'd take off your hand. Or worse. He's a madman.
[He sways as he speaks, clutching his injured hand tightly against his chest. It's still bleeding, and the blood trickles between his fingers and stains his clothes. ]
You're too weak to kill him right now. You need to wait.
[ He agrees, and his voice drops again into a low purr—except there's still a manic sort of hunger in his eyes, and his tongue runs across his gums like a starving beast of prey as he watches that slow drip of blood between Daniel's fingers. ]
Perhaps you'd like to be divested of your tongue instead? It seems to be the source of a great many problems for you! [ Another laugh cuts through the evening air, but the threat seems to be just that: a threat. Lucius takes no forward step. ] Now or later, little man — it's up to you.
[It's not a question he intends to answer, but Luicius is right -- he's lost control of his tongue. He shrinks backwards, and from the way he fidgets, it's obvious that he's considering running.]
I can't control the things-- the things that I'm saying! [He isn't crying, but his voice carries a weeping quality to it, almost like he's choking on it.] Is this your fault? Are you the one who's doing this to everyone?
Me? Please! [ This time, there is no laughter, as if the incredulous tone in which he speaks says all that needs to be said of that accusation's absurdity. ] If I were the man behind this, do you really think the result would be this?
[ After all, in Daniel's own words: he is a madman. There are things to be done with a serum of this effect, and none of them are of interest to Lucius the Eternal. ]
No, I simply followed my nose. [ Lucius lifts a finger and taps the tip of his nose with its claw. ] The scent of it has been lingering about the air for days.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I wonder: what will you do to see me let her go? [ He dangles the vial between his fingers, idly swirling it back and forth as he inclines his head in a posture that would nearly seem playful, is not for the very real threat of those claws around another person's neck. ] Perhaps you'd like to come here and take her place? As I told her, all I wanted was to have a little drink. You'll serve just as well as she could, I'm sure.
[ Attack, surrender, or flee—Lucius' grin is wide on his face as he waits for this man to make his choice. ]
cw: abuse
Calling it a "choice" would be generous. When he sees Lucius grip the woman's neck, his nervous system sparks and then catches fire, a brilliant blaze of anger that smothers the meek man underneath.
(His father had grabbed his mother's neck once. He remembers bleeding on the floor, his eyes blind with tears as he struggled to catch his breath. "That's enough!" his mother had said, and then she was wordless, gasping, as his father exerted his control.)
He lunges at Lucius, the knife gripped tightly in his hands. There's no skill, no technique in his attack. It's animalistic rage. A beast exerting control.]
no subject
(Lucius, too, recalls a memory from a boyhood countless lifetimes old: some homeless wretch, an insult, his blade drawn, the spatter of blood pouring from a cut throat, simply to see if he could—)
His sword's edge intercepts the clumsy arc of Daniel's knife—and, if Daniel is unlucky, perhaps a few of the fingers clutching it as well. ]
cw: gore
Half of his index finger. Half of his middle finger.
That's when he feels the pain.
He screams wordlessly, clutching his hand against his chest as his wings fold up, his body curling in itself without quite collapsing. ]
no subject
[ 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. ]
no subject
I look forward to the day your spine snaps beneath the weight of that delusion, hungry little man.
His scream twists as the vial meets his lips, as his head is wrenched backwards and the liquid forces itself inside. He gasps. Chokes. Garbles. The whole scenario feels eerily familiar, only he could swear he belongs on the other side of it, with his hands forcing a concoction into someone's mouth. For a moment, he tastes rose, and his legs swoon, his body nearly dropping down to the ground below. ]
Focus, Daniel.
[He doesn't realize he's speaking aloud. His words are drunk with pain, and his eyes are unfocused. ]
Focus on the present.
no subject
[ Whether Daniel manages to remain upright, or whether his legs give out beneath him and he sinks to the sidewalk, it doesn't matter. No matter which, Lucius leans in close, cruel eyes and cruel smile widening with excitement as they loom inches from Daniel's face. ]
How does it taste? How does it feel?
no subject
[The readiness with which the words leave his mouth surprise him, as though they've been torn from his throat. He staggers backwards with wide eyes, his injured hand clutched tightly to his chest. ]
I've done this before. I remember. I held a man's head and-- and I forced him to drink something! It tasted like a rose, the drink you gave me, but only in my mind. Was that what I gave the man? Did it taste like roses?
[He gulps down a breath, his eyes darting from left to right before settling on Lucius in a panic. ]
What did you do to me?!
no subject
By the time he lifts his eyes from the mysterious chemical back to Daniel, the broad, toothy grin is already back, and he asks, ] Not so innocent after all, are you?
[ It's rarely a good sign when a man of justice and virtue finds his actions echoed in those of an amoral monster. Lucius would know; he has stood on both sides of that gulf. ]
no subject
[He hates that he can't control himself, that the words are flowing unabated from his mind to his mouth. It's terrifying in the way a seizure is terrifying. The panic reflects in his eyes, in the way his uninjured hand tenses and relaxes. His mind is not his own.
And this man is to blame.]
What did you do to me?!
[It's the same question as before, only louder now, furious in its fear and anguish. There's no doubt he's outmatched, but for a moment, it looks like he's considering tearing into Lucius with his bare hands. Or his teeth. ]
I'll kill you for this!
no subject
This time, the sound is harsh and brief. ]
Then come and kill me, if you think you can! [ Mania floods his face with the words, and he throws his arms wide as if to beckon Daniel into an embrace. ] Maybe this time, I'll take your whole hand!
no subject
[He hisses the words as fear overcomes him once again, his eyes darting strangely as he wrestles with his tongue. ]
He'd take off your hand. Or worse. He's a madman.
[He sways as he speaks, clutching his injured hand tightly against his chest. It's still bleeding, and the blood trickles between his fingers and stains his clothes. ]
You're too weak to kill him right now. You need to wait.
no subject
[ He agrees, and his voice drops again into a low purr—except there's still a manic sort of hunger in his eyes, and his tongue runs across his gums like a starving beast of prey as he watches that slow drip of blood between Daniel's fingers. ]
Perhaps you'd like to be divested of your tongue instead? It seems to be the source of a great many problems for you! [ Another laugh cuts through the evening air, but the threat seems to be just that: a threat. Lucius takes no forward step. ] Now or later, little man — it's up to you.
no subject
[It's not a question he intends to answer, but Luicius is right -- he's lost control of his tongue. He shrinks backwards, and from the way he fidgets, it's obvious that he's considering running.]
I can't control the things-- the things that I'm saying! [He isn't crying, but his voice carries a weeping quality to it, almost like he's choking on it.] Is this your fault? Are you the one who's doing this to everyone?
no subject
[ After all, in Daniel's own words: he is a madman. There are things to be done with a serum of this effect, and none of them are of interest to Lucius the Eternal. ]
No, I simply followed my nose. [ Lucius lifts a finger and taps the tip of his nose with its claw. ] The scent of it has been lingering about the air for days.