Fiyero Deamorte: Trial 1: ATTN: Boss
His blood went cold at the voice. Froze in his veins, turned him stiff, stiffer than the fabric- from porcelain to steel his bones turned, he felt- oh hey, more reference he shouldn't get because that would mean he was reading- oh ha ha isn't that funny.
"So that's what this is all about isn't it. Someone pulled a prank on you. And now you're bitter at the world. What'd they do? Scars, I'd guess. Scars seem the usual culprit. So you project your anger on to us."
His eyes were sharp and empty at the same time as he stood. "No, no, projection isn't right- that's weaknesses of the self. No, this is displacement. Sure Freud's ideas are massively outdated, and rightly so, but his defense mechanisms, those will stand the test of time. The human brain simply cannot accept the possibilities that everything we know is wrong. That's why optical illusions work. I regress. I fall back on my rules. You, you push the feelings of those pranksters onto us, laugh as we cry- but you know what coward, this is going to bite you one day, it will, I can promise you that."
Grabbing the fan again, he expanded the fabric, fanning himself with it, wind blowing his hair back into his face, covering it slightly (like Katsurou had done with him in the courtyard. When he had pulled it down telling him not to cover that pretty face. Pretty face. He was covering his pretty face.)
It stayed up. Just his eyes above the line. "Maria's going to kill you. She will. She always gets what she wants and after she sees what you made me do she will want you dead," he said in a sing song voice. "She'll find someone to get the job done. And no one would be able to talk her out of it."
Closing the fan, his smile was stitched, but there. "I'm not dying here. I will not die here. I will die at thirty something on the boat with the pills that if you know me you know all too well, don't you? You know I won't die. You know I refuse to. You know I will do anything to stay alive."
Standing again, he tilted his head, batting his eyes at the screen. "How long had it been? Since you lost your drive. Passion, maybe, whatever those pranksters took from you. They probably found it funny while you cried and cried and begged for someone to end the joke."
Putting a single finger on his bottom lip, he swiped it across. "Spoiled, huh? For someone who keeps saying my life is so pitiful, spoiled is a strange word to use isn't it? But who I am to judge. Words, like, aren't, like, my job." He said in a low growl, that quickly snapped back to a smile.Â
"I will win this petty little game and I will go home, and when I do, Maria is going to make sure everything bad goes away. She. Always. Does."
Humming, he walked back over to his podium, leaving the bucket on the ground, leaning against it, perfectly calm. "Sorry guys, like, they're being a total pain. They're going to die soon. So don't worry. Just let him get off to his gore porn. They're not going to hurt me anymore. They have nothing left to hurt me with."Â
His hand closed tight around a certain item in his pocket, drops of blood staining the green, but he didn't care, not now. "Sun, I'm sorry. I want to blame myself, but I don't want to die. I refuse to die. You did nothing wrong, I love you of course." Kneeling next to him, he gently tilted up Katsurou's head again, kissing his cheek. "You heard him though. This is our new life. And I am nothing if not adaptable."Â
Standing again, he kept his grin. "So, we're voting, right? Now. Like, I need to go, so, I'm gonna go vote. I'm sure nothing would happen."
He was lying. While he said it perfectly clear, he knew nobody would believe it.Â
Perching himself on his own podium, he fanned himself with the blood soaked fan.Â
This is your life now. And you'll learn to live with it. You learned to live with everything else.Â
When Bland approached him, he tilted his head. "Of course. Let's vote. I'm getting bored and stuff, like, I wanna get out of here." Looking down to his pad, he quickly typed something and handed it to Bland. "There's not a point in hiding it, so why bother with the pictures. You'll all forget this breakdown by morning anyway."
"I'm not fading out. I promise that."
