CREATIVITY.

IND. SEL. ROMAN AND REMUS FROM SANDERS SIDES. RULES && ABOUT.

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remus already looks bored as virgil begins his little speech. he rolls his eyes -- only to recoil for a moment as the knife buries itself in his shoulder. his eyes alight with pain and amusement, and roman yelps as remus' knife slides against his throat, a small trickle of blood beginning to run down his neck. he lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as remus backs away.

" logan's not here, so let's act like it. " he snarls, ripping the knife from his shoulder. the blood spurts from the wound, but he makes no move to heal himself, grinning at virgil as he begins to circle him and roman once more.

roman blinks, surprised to find one of his wrists free, and he weakly begins tugging at the other rope, though his hands are shaking too much for him to effectively and quickly untie himself. every time he blinks, his eyes remain closed for a moment longer, but he still struggles against the ropes binding him to the chair.

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virgil’s knife carves into remus’ wrist, and blood begins to steadily drip from the wound for a moment. remus just grins, the skin knitting back together as he darts forward once more, taking a swipe with his knife.

not only that – the darkness around them shifts, fashioning itself into something more solid, and inky black tentacles lash towards virgil, attempting to grapple him. “ you shouldn’t fight creativity in the imagination, virgil! even roman could’ve told you that! ”

the side in question is too caught up in the pain and exhaustion to really be paying attention, blood still staining his clothes – he keeps coughing it up, too, as a result of being stabbed through the chest a few times. he’s having a great time.

remus giggles. “ ooh, you’re mean when you’re angry. it’s a nice change of pace! ”

Remus’ blade skates across his collarbone and Virgil mutters a few words that Patton would most certainly not be proud of as something not-quite-there latches onto his arm. Virgil wrenches his arm free with all the force he has, fighting back the overwhelming urge to start panicking. This is fine, this is good — great, even! The more the Imagination helps Remus, the faster it’ll get exhausted. Maybe. He’s running mostly on maybes and educated guesses. 

There’s a cough from behind him that makes his heart twist, and Virgil risks a glance over his shoulder — Roman looks awful. His gaze is back on Remus in a second as he moves with the clear intent to slice his throat, but his attention is divided, now. “Roman, hey! Hey, you gotta stay awake for me, okay? I’m gonna get you out of here in just a few seconds, but you’ve gotta be awake for that, okay?”  

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the tentacles lash out again, and remus takes advantage of roman's little distraction to dodge out of the way of virgil's next strike. he practically vanishes into the darkness, reappearing behind roman, the tip of his knife digging into the skin over his throat. " take another fucking step and i tear out his vocal cords. "

there's something chillingly serious in his remus' tone, and roman cringes away from him, trembling.

remus smiles, cold and cruel. " we're adults. why don't we talk about this? "

roman glances between the two of them, his breathing quick and uneven. remus digs the knife in a little further, enough to draw a little blood, and roman closes his eyes, swallowing thickly. " if you're so keen on reverting to your old ways, " remus sneers, eyes glittering dangerously, " why not take it a step further? i'll leave roman alone if you come back to us -- or, let me play with you instead. "

" virgil, don't-- " roman clamps his mouth shut as remus digs the knife in further.

" not a word from you, or i'll sew your fucking lips shut. " remus snarls, his other hand coming up to tug at roman's hair.

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“ the last time for now! ” remus chirps, voice thick with faux cheer. his gaze has grown cold, eyes cruel and harsh as he stares virgil down, finally taking the threat to his power seriously. the fact that virgil’s summoning things again isn’t a good sign.

roman slumps against the back of the chair, head tilting back. god, he’s exhausted. he continues to watch, just in case, though it’s a little hard to focus while blood pours from his now-numb arm, the slightest twitch of his hand causing pins and needles all the way up to his elbow, and his vision darkens around the edges.

remus lets out a cackle as he just barely dances around virgil’s blade, jabbing towards paranoia’s chest with his own knife. “ i missed the fight in fight-or-flight! ”

Virgil’s just the slightest bit late in dodging; Remus’ knife pushes through his hoodie and shirt, the tip of the blade drawing blood over his rib as he lurches back and to the side, darting his own weapon out to slice at one of those wretched sleeves Remus is so fond of. Whether he had enough force to break the skin, Virgil can’t say, because as soon as he’s within range, he’s leaping back out, his free hand coming up to press against the blood slowly staining his shirt.

Not as bad as he’d expected. It still hurts like any stab wound, but remarkably less, perhaps due to the adrenaline or lack of actual depth beyond the surface. He got lucky. He needs to be on guard — he has no actual fighting experience, not to mention the disadvantage he’s at… The Imagination can heal Remus up whenever it pleases, but Virgil has a feeling it would willingly let him die on the side of the road for no real reason.

He’ll just have to outlast it. If Roman’s Imagination can get tired, so can Remus’. He just has to wear it out, and once it can’t heal Remus anymore, he’ll have to admit defeat. Right? Virgil darts forward again, hand lashing out as if to score a long gash from Remus’ shoulder to his hip, if he can get lucky enough to stay in range. “Was that supposed to hurt? I expected better from you of all people.”

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virgil's knife carves into remus' wrist, and blood begins to steadily drip from the wound for a moment. remus just grins, the skin knitting back together as he darts forward once more, taking a swipe with his knife.

not only that -- the darkness around them shifts, fashioning itself into something more solid, and inky black tentacles lash towards virgil, attempting to grapple him. " you shouldn't fight creativity in the imagination, virgil! even roman could've told you that! "

the side in question is too caught up in the pain and exhaustion to really be paying attention, blood still staining his clothes -- he keeps coughing it up, too, as a result of being stabbed through the chest a few times. he's having a great time.

remus giggles. " ooh, you're mean when you're angry. it's a nice change of pace! "

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remus staggers backwards at the punch, though he scrambles back to his feet rather quickly. he grins, spitting out blood, turning his gaze towards virgil. “ sounds sexy, but you should at least take me to dinner first! ” there’s an amused and sinister gleam to remus’ eyes as he regains his composure, stalking in a wide arc around virgil and roman, knife still gripped in hand.

roman doesn’t take his eyes off of remus, still shaking something awful, blood dripping from his nose and staining his tunic in the various places remus had stabbed a few minutes prior. he wants to warn virgil to be careful, but his voice just isn’t cooperating right now.

“ i dunno, virge – i wasn’t quite done with him! but if you’re gonna be like this… ” remus sighs, glancing between roman and virgil.

“You’re done now,” comes Virgil’s biting retort, body shifting to keep himself lined up with Remus for every step he takes. “I hope you had fun, Remus, because this is the last time you’ll hurt me or anyone else I care about.” Lightning crackles in his eyes, electricity surges through his veins, and when he squeezes his fist, he finds himself gripping the hilt of a knife he doesn’t remember summoning. Huh. That’s new. He hasn’t been able to conjure items here since… Well.

He readjusts his grip to hold the blade better, not taking his eyes off Remus as he addresses Roman. “Ro, it’s gonna be okay, you hear me? Just hold on for a minute or two. You’re gonna be alright.” No matter how Remus moves, Virgil keeps himself as a physical shield blocking him from Roman. All that matters is that Remus relearns his place and stays the fuck away from him.

“Come on, then,”  he snarls, lunging for Remus and swiping at him with the knife he doesn’t quite know how to use. It can’t be too complicated, surely, all knives do are cut and stab. He just has to outmaneuver Remus, and if the knife gets too complicated, he can toss it away and focus his energy on disarming Remus instead.

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" the last time for now! " remus chirps, voice thick with faux cheer. his gaze has grown cold, eyes cruel and harsh as he stares virgil down, finally taking the threat to his power seriously. the fact that virgil's summoning things again isn't a good sign.

roman slumps against the back of the chair, head tilting back. god, he's exhausted. he continues to watch, just in case, though it's a little hard to focus while blood pours from his now-numb arm, the slightest twitch of his hand causing pins and needles all the way up to his elbow, and his vision darkens around the edges.

remus lets out a cackle as he just barely dances around virgil's blade, jabbing towards paranoia's chest with his own knife. " i missed the fight in fight-or-flight! "

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@macabresides || from here!

There’s a certain rage hanging thick in the air around Virgil like a miasma as he looks from Remus to Roman, then back again. The only sign that he’s about to move is the way his hand twitches oh-so-subtly into a fist  — then he’s lunging, driving his knuckles square into Remus’ jaw so hard that his wrist pops in protest.

“My name,” he hisses, seething, restless fury writhing in him like a pool full of eels, “Is Virgil.” He positions himself between Roman and Remus, giving Remus the most murderous look he’s ever managed to make, silently daring him to get back up. “You have a choice here, Remus. Get back up, and I’ll beat you within an inch of your life, just like the good old days, or,” he angles his shoulder towards Roman, “Leave, and let us be. Up to you.”  

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remus staggers backwards at the punch, though he scrambles back to his feet rather quickly. he grins, spitting out blood, turning his gaze towards virgil. " sounds sexy, but you should at least take me to dinner first! " there's an amused and sinister gleam to remus' eyes as he regains his composure, stalking in a wide arc around virgil and roman, knife still gripped in hand.

roman doesn't take his eyes off of remus, still shaking something awful, blood dripping from his nose and staining his tunic in the various places remus had stabbed a few minutes prior. he wants to warn virgil to be careful, but his voice just isn't cooperating right now.

" i dunno, virge -- i wasn't quite done with him! but if you're gonna be like this... " remus sighs, glancing between roman and virgil.

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this blog is really only for threads that include both roman AND remus! so if you want exclusive content of just one of the twins, make sure you go to their respective blogs!

roman: @crowncreativity (dash-only, just roman)

remus: @macabresides (dark side multimuse, features remus, deceit, and virgil)

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in the super fucked up verse the boys hate each other, but in the canon verse i like to think that on some level, remus really does care about roman. they're each half of one side, they complement each other in ways they'd rather not admit. remus is the dark side that roman is the closest with, even beating virgil in that regard. they don't talk as much as they did in the past, but after being painfully split apart and eventually forced away from each other so creativity cant even pretend to be whole anymore, you probably form a surprising bond with the person who represents the missing half of you.

they used to brainstorm together, and would toss ideas back and forth for a while, and while they don't do it as much anymore, sometimes roman will drop in and ask for remus' input or vice versa. they don't always enjoy hanging out with each other, but like real siblings, they sort of have this begrudging obligation to (and sometimes, just sometimes, it's a lot of fun. roman will never admit it).

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roman's breath catches in his throat and he refuses to meet virgil's gaze or answer his first question, guilt and shame burning behind his eyes. he's not going to cry. not when virgil's clearly not in a good place. he needs to hold it together until he's sure virgil is alright. he'd -- he'd heard the screams before, but he'd never put two and two together... he should have known it was worse than he could have ever imagined, should have figured it out once virgil finally became one of the group and the screaming finally stopped. he keeps his head down, still holding onto virgil's hand.

" he can come after me all he wants. we're evenly matched, power-wise. he can't do anything to me that i can't do to him. " he frowns, brow creasing as he thinks. " we ought to tell patton and logan about this, virgil. if you think they're in danger because of it, and if we want to keep you safe from him, we all need to be on the same page. "

his gaze flicks away, to a bloody spot on the carpet. " we don't have to tell thomas about this, if you don't want to, but... "

it's horrible. the fact that virgil is so -- so used to it, so resigned to it. roman doesn't know if it would've been better or worse had creativity stayed whole. maybe, just maybe, it would've been a little more balanced, but instead they have two halves, two extremes -- one chivalrous and kind, the other twisted and cruel.

with a shake of his head, roman forces himself to look virgil in the eye. " until things are sorted out, stay by me. or logan or patton. just -- whatever you need me to do, virge, i'll do it. "

[lovelizeswe-art]

Still trying to figure out how to draw Remus ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

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roman just stares, silent, as virgil stumbles through his explanation. halfway through, he has the thought to try and provide some sort of comfort, reaching for virgil's hand. his chest aches at the sight of virgil's tears, rage and horror fighting over his expression.

roman has never been more relieved to have been split away from his other half.

" he's not going to do it again. " roman growls, fiercer than he expected from himself. " i won't let him hurt you or patton or logan or anyone else, virgil. "

" i'm sorry i took so long. " he's still holding onto virgil's hand.

to say that roman is horrified is an understatement. all this time -- so many years, so much time and torture that virgil has had to endure while the rest of them were so blissfully ignorant, it makes his blood boil. he wants to tear remus to pieces, wants to turn his own torture against him, creativity wants to rend the duke limb from limb until he's learned his lesson. roman takes a breath, pushes back the thoughts reminiscent of a whole creativity, and rubs his thumb in a circle against the back of virgil's uninjured hand.

" you can't possibly do that on your own. especially not when it's doing this to you. " roman leans closer, concern clear as day in his eyes, his voice gentler than its ever been. " let us help you, virgil. "

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it's safe to say that roman is panicking a little bit as virgil struggles through his sentences, blood staining the couch and beginning to pool on the carpet. " hey -- hey now, virgil, stay still. " he gently pushes virgil back so he's not sitting up but not in a position to be choking on his own blood. " patton's fine, last i saw him. he was with logan and thomas. "

roman does the best he can with the healing, though he's a bit spent from the struggle with remus. he manages to, at the very least, fix virgil's mouth (for the most part -- the cut in his cheek doesn't seem to want to close all the way, though that's mostly because he can't see that injury). the wound in his hand seems to get smaller, along with the one in his shoulder, though they don't close up completely. the bleeding slows noticeably, and roman lets out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

" virgil, what-- " roman shudders, staring at virgil with wide eyes. " what happened, virge? "

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roman, for once, is speechless. he's still processing the sight in front of him -- virgil, bloodied and bruised by roman's brother, and white-hot rage burns beneath the fear of what remus might do once he gets up. roman considers steadying virgil for a moment, but ultimately just tucks his sword away and picks him up instead.

" you're okay. " he's very obviously not okay, but roman is determined to speak it into truth. " you're going to be alright. " his gaze flicks up towards the sky as remus staggers to his feet, grinning at roman and virgil, eyes wild.

please, imagination, please. roman pleads, and with a splitting headache and a bit of blood dripping from his nose, a regal red and gold doorway flickers into existence a few feet away, and roman is already moving towards it. remus spits blood onto the ground, swaying dangerously as the hole in his chest continues to knit itself back together.

roman kicks the door shut behind him as he carries virgil through, into roman's room, and remus is left alone in the imagination as the door flickers out. for good measure, roman hurries out to the shared living area for the 'light' sides (essentially just... a living room, really). remus is less likely to follow them here. he dumps virgil on the couch as gently as he can. the room is empty for the moment, giving the two some privacy for now.

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if remus is aware of the footsteps in the distance, he doesn't show it. he finally picks up a knife, such a small thing, turning towards virgil with a grin. " here we go! "

he settles in front of virgil, one hand wrenching virgil's head back by tugging on his hair in order to get a better angle. the knife finds its way into virgil's mouth, then sinks into virgil's tongue. " this is what happens when you don't listen, virge. " remus clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

" whoops! " the knife 'slips', the blade sliding against virgil's cheek, before he goes right back to the tongue without a second thought.

the sound of remus' voice sends a jolt of fear through roman -- he's so close.

he finally breaks through the darkness that's fashioned itself into something much more forest-shaped, no longer an empty void, and freezes at the sight before him.

suddenly, remus is being dragged backwards, a spray of blood from virgil's mouth hitting both him and roman as the knife is pulled out. roman slams remus to the ground with enough force to stun him for a moment, and before roman really realizes what he's doing, he's already slammed his sword into remus' chest, yanking it back out and cringing away from the spray of blood.

remus laughs, blood foaming around his mouth as he coughs it up, one hand twitching, already beginning to heal up the wounds. they don't have much time, but roman is already cutting through the ropes and untying virgil, chest heaving with uneven breaths. there's time for questions later, he figures.

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remus lets out a howl as virgil bites down, and there's a sick, horrible crack, though his howl slowly melts into laughter of the unhinged sort. remus cackles, ripping his hand from virgil's mouth as soon as anxiety's grip loosens. his laughter slowly turns to quiet snickers, and he shakes out his hand, blood dripping steadily onto the inky dark floor beneath them, mixing with virgil's blood. " i knew you had it in you paranoia! "

unfortunately for virgil, this is remus' domain, and his hand quickly corrects itself. " thanks for the compliment! "

roman is sprinting now, going as fast as he can in the direction of the scream, heart pounding and blood rushing in his ears -- ignoring the furious burning ache in his chest, ignoring how wrong it feels to be here. this part of the imagination doesn't like him as much.

remus slaps virgil as hard as he can, hard enough that he hears a crack, before snapping his fingers so virgil is even more restrained. his wrists are now pinned behind him, still tied, a rope curls around his neck, and one more winds around his legs. " one last time, virge! what did i say about talking? "

he waves a hand, and something pries virgil's mouth open, stretching it wide -- painfully so -- so remus can get to work.

" try not to scream too much, okay? let's keep it to crying if we can. this isn't the last thing we're gonna do. " remus claps his hands together, and the ropes seem to tighten a bit, digging even deeper. " i've never gotten to do this to something so sentient before! this should be fun! "

" maybe a different knife though, " he hums thoughtfully, flicking his wrist and summoning a table with a few blades laid out. he's taking his time with the build-up.

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" i took it easy on you back then. " remus spits, then roars -- " you got everything i wanted! "

roman lets out a series of panicked "hello"s at the next wail that he identifies as virgil's voice as a twinge of anxiety jolts through him. he quickens his pace, though as he crosses the threshold into remus' half of the imagination, there's an ache in his chest, a longing, it's wrong and horrible and it's not his half he's not whole he can't be here he has to help virgil--

remus rips the knife out of virgil's hand with a snarl. " thomas listens to you! my brother fucking loves you! " his breathing comes in short, quick gasps, the rage glittering in his eyes slowly fading after a moment. a forced, bitter smile finds its way to his face, and he leans in close, forcing virgil to look him in the eye. " you have no fucking idea how much it hurts to be half of a side. "

" now. what did we say about talking? " his chipper, horror fetishist mood is back, and with a wave of his hand the tables disappear. he wrenches virgil's mouth open with one hand, gripping his knife even tighter in the other.

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" i don't have to, you're absolutely correct. that doesn't mean i don't want to, though. " his tone grows cold and serious. " now, virgil? " he pauses, letting the silence fester for a moment. " what did i say about talking? "

somewhere, roman is running towards the border between his half and remus' half of the imagination, hand on the sword at his hip, not sure who he's going to rescue, but he'll be damned if he lets remus torture some poor innocent civilian from the imagination -- or...

he doesn't want to believe it, but the wail sounded too human to be some mindless imagined person. that only leaves... well, a few other options, and he has a terrible feeling that he knows who it might be.

" you know what really stung, virge? " remus picks up a smaller knife this time, and with a flick of his wrist there's a table in front of virgil's seat. he goes around the front, one hand pressing virgil's hand flat against the table, and the other drives the knife right through the middle of it. " you just... left us! no warning, no explanation, just up and left dee and i behind. " he snarls, twisting the knife. " like we were nothing. you got your happy ending, your redemption arc, and we got to become the new villains of the story. it's not fair, " he spits, twisting the knife once more, " why should you get that resolution, while we're left to be mocked and ignored and pushed aside? "

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remus lets out a delighted cackle at virgil's scream, and another rope manifests, dragging virgil back upright, tied around his torso -- just under his arms. " easy, jason dean-spair! " that wasn't his best. " don't wanna wear out your vocal cords just yet! " he giggles, wiping some of the blood off of the blade.

(somewhere, roman goes very still at a distant scream that is decidedly not an animal, and a cold shock of fear runs down his spine.)

" c'mon, virge! you're better than this! what did i tell you about the noise? i can still cut out your tongue, we've got time. " he huffs, fingers curling into virgil's hair and yanking his head back so remus can meet his gaze from behind. there's a gross crack as he practically slams the back of virgil's head against the back of the chair. " you can cry, i don't care about that, but keep the screaming down! don't want roman to come find us before we're done! "

with a dismissive flip of the hand, the knife is discarded. " what next, hm? " he grins. " so many options! " he snaps his fingers, and a crude wooden table appears to his left, covered in all sorts of different utensils that... some don't even look like torture devices, but remus is called creativity for a reason.