[This was exactly the kind of declaration he needed to hear from her, from everyone in the group, so why couldn't he shake the sense of dread that overcame him just at the thought of taking any further action or saying another word from there. He felt paralyzed and that terrified him because if that was his reaction not even in front of that bastard, what was going to happen once he was near that mansion again? Or in front of him?]
You should be afraid! You don't even know what he'd do to you. Or what he'd make me do to you.
[He didn't take the hand, he found his body resisting every attempt to move no matter what he tried to do. The vampire bit his lips, his eyes darting over the darkness of the river and he found himself lost into it for a moment as he fought to regain control of himself.] He would turn you, to make you last. And then he'd have me do horrible things, like- ripping your pretty eyes out over and over, every day, and collect them. Maybe even putting them in a jar in the quarters all us spawns share, just to remind you your place. [And that would be nothing, Astarion had his body defiled in every possible way, either through torture or abused, for decades, Cazador'd even be more cruel with someone who helped his toy run for so long. He didn't understand himself, he needed people to stand between him and his master and he had known Nepione for such a short time she couldn't really matter to him but-] You cannot- you will not become my new sister in pain.
[Somehow, that thought was unbearable. It had to be only because it implied he was going to fall under his master once more, if there was more he was forcing his mind to ignore it, not to read too deeply into the most confusing feelings he had in quite some time. It took him a moment too long to realize he was breathing hard and deep, not something his body required but still one of those remaining reactions that reminded him he was once alive.
Crimson eyes closed for a long moment as he leveled his own bodily functions, his entire undead system going from what was almost a pre-panic attack state, something he would never acknowledge, to a stillness that was innatural as the vampire himself.It was only when he regained control that he reached with his hand forward, just touching one of the two that had been offered to him.
Not completely open, no, the other arm was still sealed in a defensive posture. But it was a step forward, even if he didn't realize it.]
That... thing you saw on my back. I need to know what it means, why it was made and why Cazador was obsessed with it. He called it a love poem, he called me his gem, but I remember enough of his scalpels and how they dug in my flesh to know it's an infernal something. I know it's just not a fancy poem, I'm not stupid, and if this gives that son of a bitch any leverage on me I must know it before approaching his place.
no subject
You should be afraid! You don't even know what he'd do to you. Or what he'd make me do to you.
[He didn't take the hand, he found his body resisting every attempt to move no matter what he tried to do. The vampire bit his lips, his eyes darting over the darkness of the river and he found himself lost into it for a moment as he fought to regain control of himself.] He would turn you, to make you last. And then he'd have me do horrible things, like- ripping your pretty eyes out over and over, every day, and collect them. Maybe even putting them in a jar in the quarters all us spawns share, just to remind you your place. [And that would be nothing, Astarion had his body defiled in every possible way, either through torture or abused, for decades, Cazador'd even be more cruel with someone who helped his toy run for so long. He didn't understand himself, he needed people to stand between him and his master and he had known Nepione for such a short time she couldn't really matter to him but-] You cannot- you will not become my new sister in pain.
[Somehow, that thought was unbearable. It had to be only because it implied he was going to fall under his master once more, if there was more he was forcing his mind to ignore it, not to read too deeply into the most confusing feelings he had in quite some time. It took him a moment too long to realize he was breathing hard and deep, not something his body required but still one of those remaining reactions that reminded him he was once alive.
Crimson eyes closed for a long moment as he leveled his own bodily functions, his entire undead system going from what was almost a pre-panic attack state, something he would never acknowledge, to a stillness that was innatural as the vampire himself.It was only when he regained control that he reached with his hand forward, just touching one of the two that had been offered to him.
Not completely open, no, the other arm was still sealed in a defensive posture. But it was a step forward, even if he didn't realize it.]
That... thing you saw on my back. I need to know what it means, why it was made and why Cazador was obsessed with it. He called it a love poem, he called me his gem, but I remember enough of his scalpels and how they dug in my flesh to know it's an infernal something. I know it's just not a fancy poem, I'm not stupid, and if this gives that son of a bitch any leverage on me I must know it before approaching his place.