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@f4ke-your-death
some like to sleep, we like to play --
‿̩͙⊱ { LONG LIVE HIS GRAND IMMORTAL DICTATOR . . . . FOREVERMORE } ⊰‿̩͙
─ His Grand Immortal Dictator; proving his immortality once more. With great strength he drew himself up from the rubble and scalding ash of his beloved DRAAG, dusting the soot from his rotten cape and stepping forth into a new era . . . ×
just look at all that pain . . .
[ Sure enough, Lin's directions had proven truthful, and the Dictator had emerged on cracked pavement within about twenty minutes of travel. A glance from side to side, down either street, showed that the nightlife was nearly as nonexistent here as it had been in his own territory. An old pipe hung off an awning by his left, dripping rhythmically into a puddle of dirty water. On his right, a streetlight buzzed and flickered in a poor effort of avoiding its inevitable demise. He moved forwards. ]
[ During daylight he might've been more worried about appearing on the street in uniform without protection, but the nighttime stragglers didn't concern him so much when he knew there was a sharpened dagger tucked under his cape. Eyes up and chin held high with pride, he spotted the peak of what was no doubt the building he very much wanted to pay a visit. Though as fate would have it, he would not be reaching it on this night. Instead, a rather rotund little man caught his eye as he slipped out of one of the few still lit buildings on this particular street. Even several paces away in the dark he could recognize his Clerk anywhere- very nearly calling out for "Ilya" and already formulating his thorough questioning on what the man might be doing out here…. But this was not his DRAAG, and this was not his Ilya, and they did not abide by his rules. ]
[ Yet. ]
[ He watched in perfect silence for a few passing moments. Comparing Ilya with this man from a distance. Observing what first cues he might take to how this man ticks… all while debating the benefits of spooking the poor bastard by catching his attention formally. It'd happen regardless, in time… so why not do so while he doesn't have guards around a corner? ]
. . . . Clerk.
[ -- @f4ke-your-death ]
[it was rather uncommon that he would be walking alone at such a time. he wasn’t particularly fond of the dark- especially not on his way home from downtown. It was necessary, though, as he had been lacking in his usual breakfast foods. he was almost certain that nobody wanted him to come into the office snappy and irritable from skipping a meal.
he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, continuing his steady pace back home. trying to block out any of the sounds around him, he kept his eyes forward. why hadn’t he just drove? he knew he hated walking around outside at night, unprotected besides a gun at his hip- but even then, his aim was mediocre at best. anyways, not like he would need to take action, he hoped.
he heard his title before sharply turning around, met with a silhouette that looked so very familiar. the tall man scared him, his eyes widening and his grip on the paper bag in his arms trembled slightly. the same stature, the same cape… even down to the hat. it couldn’t be him, though. what would he even be doing out this late?]
Hello, sir, I- uhm- please forgive me, I’m rather surprised. What made you come… looking for me?
[by his own knowledge, Ivan should’ve been either in his office, or in his mansion. there was not one instance he could think of- of the Dictator wandering through the streets of the city past the time of curfew. not like the law would affect him much- but maybe he suddenly had the urge to walk through the town…? it seemed unlikely. what could possibly be the reason for his sudden presence?]
[ He'd always enjoyed getting a little scare out of sneaking up on his Clerk and it seemed such a ritual might remain possible even here. Ilya was a jumpy sort, even if his next response was usually something akin to anger before the realization always hit him of just whom he was speaking to with such a tone. That was a part of the satisfaction, too, he supposed. Seeing the little man wilt a bit when he turned with a finger ready to jab at what he assumed would be Gerard... only to find his boss there instead. This instance lacked such further gratification. Maybe this Clerk was a more... naturally submissive man. ]
I wasn't looking for you. I simply happened to be on the same route. What coincidence, no?
[ There was no sense in spoiling his fun earlier than he had to. He could have a new, unique form of entertainment that he had not yet experienced-- and this enticed him greatly. No one would assume he was an entirely different man until it was stated directly, or, they came to the conclusion after one too many instances of divergence. He decided he'd test how long it might take this little man to meet the latter point. ]
[ With his presence announced, he stepped forwards. Precise and regal, though still with the air of a predator stalking through the brush. The Clerk would do for prey... something akin to a fat little bunny. He smirked at his own thought, just barely managing to bite the expression back by the time he made it beneath a well placed street lamp that bathed him in a warm glow. His shadow, however, cast itself over the Clerk enough that he could not share the same comfort. ]
. . . And what might you be doing out at this hour? Unaccompanied... and dare I suggest: vulnerable? The crowds that remain on the streets after a certain hour aren't as friendly as the rest...
[of course. a coincidence. it wasn’t unheard of- Ivan being a bit… protective. blinking a few times, he tried to clear the surprise from his face. despite the tense air around them, he felt the same sense of comfort that Ivan usually brought- yet this time, there was a tangible edge. he felt venomous, his usual cold demeanour showing through.]
Of course. Where were you heading then, sir? I wasn’t aware that you enjoyed taking… nightly strolls.
[he tilted his head slightly, in the same fashion he would around the Dictator. Nothing more than a confused pet, awaiting explanation. he knew that Ivan didn’t owe him an explanation, but he was still curious. it wasn’t like the Clerk usually took to walking around at such a time- but perhaps the startling appearance of the Dictator emerging from a deviated path.]
Far from vulnerable, sir- at least now. You’re here, aren’t you? I doubt anyone would dare bother me, especially with you at my side, if I could be so bold.
[too trusting for his own good. barely sensing the minute differences showing through the cracks. the warning felt genuine enough, and the Clerk believed that he was truly concerned. Why wouldn’t Ivan be, anyways? though he didn’t move closer to the towering figure of the Dictator, as he usually would, he had no intention to move away.]
That is quite bold of you.
[ His agreement was laced with as much amusement as it was edge. He intentionally paid no mind to the first question, having no real answer that he wished to provide. Behind tinted glasses he busied himself with looking the smaller man up and down quite thoroughly. His stature alone was starkly different from his Ilya. His speech patterns... about the same. Ilya had a streak of confidence that came with his position that was tangible even when conversing with him, but this... he wouldn't call confidence. It was something else that he couldn't yet pinpoint. Perhaps he was trying a bit too hard to pick apart this Clerk within their first few moments of meeting. ]
. . . But I suppose I could accompany you, if that would make you feel better. Are you expecting me to walk you home?
[ He wouldn't mask such a question behind any coyness. Though his interest in actually following through was minimal for what it was on the surface, he would use the opportunity as an excuse to come to understand the Clerk better. That being said, he already knew what "accompanying" him implied-- after all, where else would he be walking him? The latter part, the question, was posed solely to make the little man say it. ]
[the Dictator’s gaze was almost entirely felt by the Clerk- his cold (seemingly harsh) eyes raked up and down his body, critiquing and curious. he resisted the urge to shuffle on his feet, perhaps rearrange the bag he held in his arms, a sense of nervousness that he wasn’t sure was those “butterflies” in his stomach, or an actual sense of unease. as usual, those two emotions were always so similar in their nature. increased heartbeats, darting eyes, fidgeting hands. there wasn’t much difference in how they presented themselves.]
Not in fear of anyone in the city at this time, but, I suppose it would ease my worries. You don’t have to, though, my apartment isn’t that far off from here.
[should his hands have been free, he might’ve brushed his hair behind his ear with the twirl of his finger. he was subconsciously second guessing his place in the Dictator’s importance- would he be so against simply walking him home? Boris mentally shrugged. it wasn’t like he expected Ivan to merely stop everything just for him. anyways, the Dictator might have some business to attend to tonight. the Clerk would hate to be the one to keep him from completing his tasks.]
It’s quite fine if you wish to finish your business in the city, however. I can assure you that I would make it home safely. We’ll see each other tomorrow anyways, would we not?
What kind of leader would I be if my loyal men didn't come before my own tasks, mm? Come, lead the way.
[ The full irony of his words was lost on the other man, truthfully. Boris did not know the extent in which Kyiv was willing to ignore, betray, or neglect both rebels and loyalists alike for his own gain. Perhaps that had aided his great downfall in the end, though he wouldn't entertain such a thought. Instead, he moved to pass the smaller with a brush of arm to shoulder as he strode forwards a few paces. A subtle signal that he expected them to start on their way immediately at his announcement. ]
... What nighttime shopping have you been up to? Enlighten me and sate my curiosity.
[ Did he really care what was in that bag? Not in the slightest. But he'd engage such meaningless conversation as any excuse to keep picking away at what went on in this Clerk's life. Already he had far more questions than he could gain answers to quickly enough for his satisfaction. Boris spoke with a sort of... fondness. A twinge of something with more depth between him and his own Dictator that was out of reach for himself. It must be that way-- because otherwise, he simply couldn't fathom how casual he spoke to him. It would be considered wildly inappropriate with any regular sort of staff, in his opinion. ]
[without another word, he nodded- a bit surprised at how quickly the Dictator took the lead. he readjusted the bag in his arms and followed. stout legs hurried beside the tall figure, keeping up with his long strides. they were authoritative as ever, his back as straight as a ramrod. the Clerk looked up at the Dictator, trying to remain discrete about it, but alas, his affection almost was palpable, clear from a brief glance into his ever-telling eyes. much like before, any sense of fear was quickly buried underneath the tenseness he felt- even towards the cold demeanour that the Dictator seemed to be putting on, for whatever reason.]
Nothing much, but I had gotten home today and discovered that I was missing a few key breakfast items. I decided it was better to go out tonight to restock, rather than waiting for the morning.
[he offered a small smile, practically beaming. he knew he was the Dictator’s most loyal, and his acknowledgment of that was not lost on Boris- despite being unaware of the very lie of the mirage of the man in front of him. having quickly shrugged off the sinister air, it was replaced by a calm that he usually felt with the man. even his question of such a frivolous nature encouraged him to talk. should he only ask, he would be far too eager to tell the man anything. any misstep on Kyiv’s part would be brushed off, given it wasn’t too egregious. the question toyed on his mind, though. why was the Dictator out in the town? the question hesitated on his lips, before he finally decided to speak.]
M- might I ask, but what are you doing out here, sir? Surely you have more important matters to attend to, instead of merely roaming around the streets…?
[truly, a pathetic man. he was never able to shake the timid nature of his questions that he asked the Dictator, in fear of retribution. especially pertaining towards more personal questions, he deemed that Ivan would tell him what he wanted the Clerk to know. there was no reason for him to pry in places he was unwelcome.
he continued to practically prance next to the man, still unaware of the true nature of the man beside him. Kyiv- a wolf in sheep’s clothing, prowling with his teeth hidden behind a harmless smirk. his victim a lamb all too eager for it’s own sacrifice, unwittingly lathering in the false sense of security, bathing in his own ignorance.]
[ Something about Boris' phrasing of his answer had been enough to draw a laugh from the taller man, dry and low like he wasn't used to expressing such an emotion outwardly. "Key breakfast items" had done it, he decided. Ilya had always had a certain way of speaking as well. So formal, even when addressing the most casual of conversations. It was like the verbal equivalent of a business email. Needless to say, this one had gotten him good. Though as quickly as his little chuckle had begun it drew to an end, stifled with a light cough and clearing his throat. ]
I'd prefer if you didn't ask questions regarding my actions at all, quite frankly, but I will humor this one. It's beneficial for a leader to know his streets, dear Clerk. If a man is foreign to his own land, then it is not his. Blood must travel through veins to get to the heart, and so on and so forth.
[ A fancy way of saying he was out for a stroll. Though this DRAAG was not his own yet, he'd be doing the work to claim it every step of the way. All of this would be his in time-- every street, every building, every body. Including that of Boris. The little man would do fine at his side just as he had before. Ilya's loyalty had truthfully been unmatched by any of the rest of his staff, and his dedication to upkeeping the Dictator personally alongside the rest of his work had earned him a fair amount of praise. Such a shame he was buried in dirt and shattered concrete alongside the rest of his people. But this one would do just as well. ]
[ A glance spared to the man at his side was met with that damned smile. Not a polite one, no. Far too friendly, far too eager. Affectionate. Maybe he was reading into this Clerk wrong when it came to whatever he shared with this universe's version of himself. Did the little man have a certain fondness for him that Ilya lacked? His initial reaction was akin to disgust. He hadn't ever imagined himself so intimate with a lowly member of his staff, and furthermore, pursuing a relationship without gain nor true value. His sweet Marian back home had given him both, and more. But... the repulsions would have to be cast aside for now. If he was to gain the favor of his soon-to-be new staff he'd have to play whatever game that required until he had the power to change its rules. ]
... It's getting warmer out, isn't it? The woods will soon be in bloom. The fields will need their maintenance... I'd imagine you're already worrying your little head half to death about drafting the workforce for it yet again. But won't it be nice for the bread to be fresh again?
[ He reached over without any prior indication of what he'd had on his mind, plucking Boris' groceries from his arms. Peeling back one side of the bag, he peered into it with minor interest, and then hummed as he crinkled it shut again and tucked the whole lot of it under his arm on the opposite side of his body. A small gesture of kindness, feigned intentionally, to feed into the smaller's affections. ]
[ Sure enough, Lin's directions had proven truthful, and the Dictator had emerged on cracked pavement within about twenty minutes of travel. A glance from side to side, down either street, showed that the nightlife was nearly as nonexistent here as it had been in his own territory. An old pipe hung off an awning by his left, dripping rhythmically into a puddle of dirty water. On his right, a streetlight buzzed and flickered in a poor effort of avoiding its inevitable demise. He moved forwards. ]
[ During daylight he might've been more worried about appearing on the street in uniform without protection, but the nighttime stragglers didn't concern him so much when he knew there was a sharpened dagger tucked under his cape. Eyes up and chin held high with pride, he spotted the peak of what was no doubt the building he very much wanted to pay a visit. Though as fate would have it, he would not be reaching it on this night. Instead, a rather rotund little man caught his eye as he slipped out of one of the few still lit buildings on this particular street. Even several paces away in the dark he could recognize his Clerk anywhere- very nearly calling out for "Ilya" and already formulating his thorough questioning on what the man might be doing out here…. But this was not his DRAAG, and this was not his Ilya, and they did not abide by his rules. ]
[ Yet. ]
[ He watched in perfect silence for a few passing moments. Comparing Ilya with this man from a distance. Observing what first cues he might take to how this man ticks… all while debating the benefits of spooking the poor bastard by catching his attention formally. It'd happen regardless, in time… so why not do so while he doesn't have guards around a corner? ]
. . . . Clerk.
[ -- @f4ke-your-death ]
[it was rather uncommon that he would be walking alone at such a time. he wasn’t particularly fond of the dark- especially not on his way home from downtown. It was necessary, though, as he had been lacking in his usual breakfast foods. he was almost certain that nobody wanted him to come into the office snappy and irritable from skipping a meal.
he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, continuing his steady pace back home. trying to block out any of the sounds around him, he kept his eyes forward. why hadn’t he just drove? he knew he hated walking around outside at night, unprotected besides a gun at his hip- but even then, his aim was mediocre at best. anyways, not like he would need to take action, he hoped.
he heard his title before sharply turning around, met with a silhouette that looked so very familiar. the tall man scared him, his eyes widening and his grip on the paper bag in his arms trembled slightly. the same stature, the same cape… even down to the hat. it couldn’t be him, though. what would he even be doing out this late?]
Hello, sir, I- uhm- please forgive me, I’m rather surprised. What made you come… looking for me?
[by his own knowledge, Ivan should’ve been either in his office, or in his mansion. there was not one instance he could think of- of the Dictator wandering through the streets of the city past the time of curfew. not like the law would affect him much- but maybe he suddenly had the urge to walk through the town…? it seemed unlikely. what could possibly be the reason for his sudden presence?]
[ He'd always enjoyed getting a little scare out of sneaking up on his Clerk and it seemed such a ritual might remain possible even here. Ilya was a jumpy sort, even if his next response was usually something akin to anger before the realization always hit him of just whom he was speaking to with such a tone. That was a part of the satisfaction, too, he supposed. Seeing the little man wilt a bit when he turned with a finger ready to jab at what he assumed would be Gerard... only to find his boss there instead. This instance lacked such further gratification. Maybe this Clerk was a more... naturally submissive man. ]
I wasn't looking for you. I simply happened to be on the same route. What coincidence, no?
[ There was no sense in spoiling his fun earlier than he had to. He could have a new, unique form of entertainment that he had not yet experienced-- and this enticed him greatly. No one would assume he was an entirely different man until it was stated directly, or, they came to the conclusion after one too many instances of divergence. He decided he'd test how long it might take this little man to meet the latter point. ]
[ With his presence announced, he stepped forwards. Precise and regal, though still with the air of a predator stalking through the brush. The Clerk would do for prey... something akin to a fat little bunny. He smirked at his own thought, just barely managing to bite the expression back by the time he made it beneath a well placed street lamp that bathed him in a warm glow. His shadow, however, cast itself over the Clerk enough that he could not share the same comfort. ]
. . . And what might you be doing out at this hour? Unaccompanied... and dare I suggest: vulnerable? The crowds that remain on the streets after a certain hour aren't as friendly as the rest...
[of course. a coincidence. it wasn’t unheard of- Ivan being a bit… protective. blinking a few times, he tried to clear the surprise from his face. despite the tense air around them, he felt the same sense of comfort that Ivan usually brought- yet this time, there was a tangible edge. he felt venomous, his usual cold demeanour showing through.]
Of course. Where were you heading then, sir? I wasn’t aware that you enjoyed taking… nightly strolls.
[he tilted his head slightly, in the same fashion he would around the Dictator. Nothing more than a confused pet, awaiting explanation. he knew that Ivan didn’t owe him an explanation, but he was still curious. it wasn’t like the Clerk usually took to walking around at such a time- but perhaps the startling appearance of the Dictator emerging from a deviated path.]
Far from vulnerable, sir- at least now. You’re here, aren’t you? I doubt anyone would dare bother me, especially with you at my side, if I could be so bold.
[too trusting for his own good. barely sensing the minute differences showing through the cracks. the warning felt genuine enough, and the Clerk believed that he was truly concerned. Why wouldn’t Ivan be, anyways? though he didn’t move closer to the towering figure of the Dictator, as he usually would, he had no intention to move away.]
That is quite bold of you.
[ His agreement was laced with as much amusement as it was edge. He intentionally paid no mind to the first question, having no real answer that he wished to provide. Behind tinted glasses he busied himself with looking the smaller man up and down quite thoroughly. His stature alone was starkly different from his Ilya. His speech patterns... about the same. Ilya had a streak of confidence that came with his position that was tangible even when conversing with him, but this... he wouldn't call confidence. It was something else that he couldn't yet pinpoint. Perhaps he was trying a bit too hard to pick apart this Clerk within their first few moments of meeting. ]
. . . But I suppose I could accompany you, if that would make you feel better. Are you expecting me to walk you home?
[ He wouldn't mask such a question behind any coyness. Though his interest in actually following through was minimal for what it was on the surface, he would use the opportunity as an excuse to come to understand the Clerk better. That being said, he already knew what "accompanying" him implied-- after all, where else would he be walking him? The latter part, the question, was posed solely to make the little man say it. ]
[the Dictator’s gaze was almost entirely felt by the Clerk- his cold (seemingly harsh) eyes raked up and down his body, critiquing and curious. he resisted the urge to shuffle on his feet, perhaps rearrange the bag he held in his arms, a sense of nervousness that he wasn’t sure was those “butterflies” in his stomach, or an actual sense of unease. as usual, those two emotions were always so similar in their nature. increased heartbeats, darting eyes, fidgeting hands. there wasn’t much difference in how they presented themselves.]
Not in fear of anyone in the city at this time, but, I suppose it would ease my worries. You don’t have to, though, my apartment isn’t that far off from here.
[should his hands have been free, he might’ve brushed his hair behind his ear with the twirl of his finger. he was subconsciously second guessing his place in the Dictator’s importance- would he be so against simply walking him home? Boris mentally shrugged. it wasn’t like he expected Ivan to merely stop everything just for him. anyways, the Dictator might have some business to attend to tonight. the Clerk would hate to be the one to keep him from completing his tasks.]
It’s quite fine if you wish to finish your business in the city, however. I can assure you that I would make it home safely. We’ll see each other tomorrow anyways, would we not?
What kind of leader would I be if my loyal men didn't come before my own tasks, mm? Come, lead the way.
[ The full irony of his words was lost on the other man, truthfully. Boris did not know the extent in which Kyiv was willing to ignore, betray, or neglect both rebels and loyalists alike for his own gain. Perhaps that had aided his great downfall in the end, though he wouldn't entertain such a thought. Instead, he moved to pass the smaller with a brush of arm to shoulder as he strode forwards a few paces. A subtle signal that he expected them to start on their way immediately at his announcement. ]
... What nighttime shopping have you been up to? Enlighten me and sate my curiosity.
[ Did he really care what was in that bag? Not in the slightest. But he'd engage such meaningless conversation as any excuse to keep picking away at what went on in this Clerk's life. Already he had far more questions than he could gain answers to quickly enough for his satisfaction. Boris spoke with a sort of... fondness. A twinge of something with more depth between him and his own Dictator that was out of reach for himself. It must be that way-- because otherwise, he simply couldn't fathom how casual he spoke to him. It would be considered wildly inappropriate with any regular sort of staff, in his opinion. ]
[ Sure enough, Lin's directions had proven truthful, and the Dictator had emerged on cracked pavement within about twenty minutes of travel. A glance from side to side, down either street, showed that the nightlife was nearly as nonexistent here as it had been in his own territory. An old pipe hung off an awning by his left, dripping rhythmically into a puddle of dirty water. On his right, a streetlight buzzed and flickered in a poor effort of avoiding its inevitable demise. He moved forwards. ]
[ During daylight he might've been more worried about appearing on the street in uniform without protection, but the nighttime stragglers didn't concern him so much when he knew there was a sharpened dagger tucked under his cape. Eyes up and chin held high with pride, he spotted the peak of what was no doubt the building he very much wanted to pay a visit. Though as fate would have it, he would not be reaching it on this night. Instead, a rather rotund little man caught his eye as he slipped out of one of the few still lit buildings on this particular street. Even several paces away in the dark he could recognize his Clerk anywhere- very nearly calling out for "Ilya" and already formulating his thorough questioning on what the man might be doing out here…. But this was not his DRAAG, and this was not his Ilya, and they did not abide by his rules. ]
[ Yet. ]
[ He watched in perfect silence for a few passing moments. Comparing Ilya with this man from a distance. Observing what first cues he might take to how this man ticks… all while debating the benefits of spooking the poor bastard by catching his attention formally. It'd happen regardless, in time… so why not do so while he doesn't have guards around a corner? ]
. . . . Clerk.
[ -- @f4ke-your-death ]
[it was rather uncommon that he would be walking alone at such a time. he wasn’t particularly fond of the dark- especially not on his way home from downtown. It was necessary, though, as he had been lacking in his usual breakfast foods. he was almost certain that nobody wanted him to come into the office snappy and irritable from skipping a meal.
he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, continuing his steady pace back home. trying to block out any of the sounds around him, he kept his eyes forward. why hadn’t he just drove? he knew he hated walking around outside at night, unprotected besides a gun at his hip- but even then, his aim was mediocre at best. anyways, not like he would need to take action, he hoped.
he heard his title before sharply turning around, met with a silhouette that looked so very familiar. the tall man scared him, his eyes widening and his grip on the paper bag in his arms trembled slightly. the same stature, the same cape… even down to the hat. it couldn’t be him, though. what would he even be doing out this late?]
Hello, sir, I- uhm- please forgive me, I’m rather surprised. What made you come… looking for me?
[by his own knowledge, Ivan should’ve been either in his office, or in his mansion. there was not one instance he could think of- of the Dictator wandering through the streets of the city past the time of curfew. not like the law would affect him much- but maybe he suddenly had the urge to walk through the town…? it seemed unlikely. what could possibly be the reason for his sudden presence?]
[ He'd always enjoyed getting a little scare out of sneaking up on his Clerk and it seemed such a ritual might remain possible even here. Ilya was a jumpy sort, even if his next response was usually something akin to anger before the realization always hit him of just whom he was speaking to with such a tone. That was a part of the satisfaction, too, he supposed. Seeing the little man wilt a bit when he turned with a finger ready to jab at what he assumed would be Gerard... only to find his boss there instead. This instance lacked such further gratification. Maybe this Clerk was a more... naturally submissive man. ]
I wasn't looking for you. I simply happened to be on the same route. What coincidence, no?
[ There was no sense in spoiling his fun earlier than he had to. He could have a new, unique form of entertainment that he had not yet experienced-- and this enticed him greatly. No one would assume he was an entirely different man until it was stated directly, or, they came to the conclusion after one too many instances of divergence. He decided he'd test how long it might take this little man to meet the latter point. ]
[ With his presence announced, he stepped forwards. Precise and regal, though still with the air of a predator stalking through the brush. The Clerk would do for prey... something akin to a fat little bunny. He smirked at his own thought, just barely managing to bite the expression back by the time he made it beneath a well placed street lamp that bathed him in a warm glow. His shadow, however, cast itself over the Clerk enough that he could not share the same comfort. ]
. . . And what might you be doing out at this hour? Unaccompanied... and dare I suggest: vulnerable? The crowds that remain on the streets after a certain hour aren't as friendly as the rest...
[of course. a coincidence. it wasn’t unheard of- Ivan being a bit… protective. blinking a few times, he tried to clear the surprise from his face. despite the tense air around them, he felt the same sense of comfort that Ivan usually brought- yet this time, there was a tangible edge. he felt venomous, his usual cold demeanour showing through.]
Of course. Where were you heading then, sir? I wasn’t aware that you enjoyed taking… nightly strolls.
[he tilted his head slightly, in the same fashion he would around the Dictator. Nothing more than a confused pet, awaiting explanation. he knew that Ivan didn’t owe him an explanation, but he was still curious. it wasn’t like the Clerk usually took to walking around at such a time- but perhaps the startling appearance of the Dictator emerging from a deviated path.]
Far from vulnerable, sir- at least now. You’re here, aren’t you? I doubt anyone would dare bother me, especially with you at my side, if I could be so bold.
[too trusting for his own good. barely sensing the minute differences showing through the cracks. the warning felt genuine enough, and the Clerk believed that he was truly concerned. Why wouldn’t Ivan be, anyways? though he didn’t move closer to the towering figure of the Dictator, as he usually would, he had no intention to move away.]
That is quite bold of you.
[ His agreement was laced with as much amusement as it was edge. He intentionally paid no mind to the first question, having no real answer that he wished to provide. Behind tinted glasses he busied himself with looking the smaller man up and down quite thoroughly. His stature alone was starkly different from his Ilya. His speech patterns... about the same. Ilya had a streak of confidence that came with his position that was tangible even when conversing with him, but this... he wouldn't call confidence. It was something else that he couldn't yet pinpoint. Perhaps he was trying a bit too hard to pick apart this Clerk within their first few moments of meeting. ]
. . . But I suppose I could accompany you, if that would make you feel better. Are you expecting me to walk you home?
[ He wouldn't mask such a question behind any coyness. Though his interest in actually following through was minimal for what it was on the surface, he would use the opportunity as an excuse to come to understand the Clerk better. That being said, he already knew what "accompanying" him implied-- after all, where else would he be walking him? The latter part, the question, was posed solely to make the little man say it. ]
[ Sure enough, Lin's directions had proven truthful, and the Dictator had emerged on cracked pavement within about twenty minutes of travel. A glance from side to side, down either street, showed that the nightlife was nearly as nonexistent here as it had been in his own territory. An old pipe hung off an awning by his left, dripping rhythmically into a puddle of dirty water. On his right, a streetlight buzzed and flickered in a poor effort of avoiding its inevitable demise. He moved forwards. ]
[ During daylight he might've been more worried about appearing on the street in uniform without protection, but the nighttime stragglers didn't concern him so much when he knew there was a sharpened dagger tucked under his cape. Eyes up and chin held high with pride, he spotted the peak of what was no doubt the building he very much wanted to pay a visit. Though as fate would have it, he would not be reaching it on this night. Instead, a rather rotund little man caught his eye as he slipped out of one of the few still lit buildings on this particular street. Even several paces away in the dark he could recognize his Clerk anywhere- very nearly calling out for "Ilya" and already formulating his thorough questioning on what the man might be doing out here…. But this was not his DRAAG, and this was not his Ilya, and they did not abide by his rules. ]
[ Yet. ]
[ He watched in perfect silence for a few passing moments. Comparing Ilya with this man from a distance. Observing what first cues he might take to how this man ticks… all while debating the benefits of spooking the poor bastard by catching his attention formally. It'd happen regardless, in time… so why not do so while he doesn't have guards around a corner? ]
. . . . Clerk.
[ -- @f4ke-your-death ]
[it was rather uncommon that he would be walking alone at such a time. he wasn’t particularly fond of the dark- especially not on his way home from downtown. It was necessary, though, as he had been lacking in his usual breakfast foods. he was almost certain that nobody wanted him to come into the office snappy and irritable from skipping a meal.
he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, continuing his steady pace back home. trying to block out any of the sounds around him, he kept his eyes forward. why hadn’t he just drove? he knew he hated walking around outside at night, unprotected besides a gun at his hip- but even then, his aim was mediocre at best. anyways, not like he would need to take action, he hoped.
he heard his title before sharply turning around, met with a silhouette that looked so very familiar. the tall man scared him, his eyes widening and his grip on the paper bag in his arms trembled slightly. the same stature, the same cape… even down to the hat. it couldn’t be him, though. what would he even be doing out this late?]
Hello, sir, I- uhm- please forgive me, I’m rather surprised. What made you come… looking for me?
[by his own knowledge, Ivan should’ve been either in his office, or in his mansion. there was not one instance he could think of- of the Dictator wandering through the streets of the city past the time of curfew. not like the law would affect him much- but maybe he suddenly had the urge to walk through the town…? it seemed unlikely. what could possibly be the reason for his sudden presence?]
[ He'd always enjoyed getting a little scare out of sneaking up on his Clerk and it seemed such a ritual might remain possible even here. Ilya was a jumpy sort, even if his next response was usually something akin to anger before the realization always hit him of just whom he was speaking to with such a tone. That was a part of the satisfaction, too, he supposed. Seeing the little man wilt a bit when he turned with a finger ready to jab at what he assumed would be Gerard... only to find his boss there instead. This instance lacked such further gratification. Maybe this Clerk was a more... naturally submissive man. ]
I wasn't looking for you. I simply happened to be on the same route. What coincidence, no?
[ There was no sense in spoiling his fun earlier than he had to. He could have a new, unique form of entertainment that he had not yet experienced-- and this enticed him greatly. No one would assume he was an entirely different man until it was stated directly, or, they came to the conclusion after one too many instances of divergence. He decided he'd test how long it might take this little man to meet the latter point. ]
[ With his presence announced, he stepped forwards. Precise and regal, though still with the air of a predator stalking through the brush. The Clerk would do for prey... something akin to a fat little bunny. He smirked at his own thought, just barely managing to bite the expression back by the time he made it beneath a well placed street lamp that bathed him in a warm glow. His shadow, however, cast itself over the Clerk enough that he could not share the same comfort. ]
. . . And what might you be doing out at this hour? Unaccompanied... and dare I suggest: vulnerable? The crowds that remain on the streets after a certain hour aren't as friendly as the rest...
YURI OR YAOI
I don't know what either of those words mean.
guess who's back. Back again 😄
And whom, exactly, might you be...?
[ A sharp inhale into charred lungs. ]
[ That was the first thing he took from this DRAAG. This universe. It would not be the last. The moisture-sweetened air was something he hadn't experienced for quite some time, and it took an effort to convince himself to release his breath once more. The forest chirped softly on all sides, wind rustling the treetops as they leaned away from his presence. Below, the grass whined its unheard pleas for mercy beneath heavy soles with each step. Forwards. The scratch of branches against his cheeks as he shoved through did not phase him. ]
[ He did not utter a sound as he pushed forwards, drawn by something… important. The siren's call of something he needed. Someone. Despite what felt like an endless expanse of dense brush, he knew exactly where he needed to go ]
[ A camp laid in a small, unimpressive clearing. The crudely built firepit had burned itself out as the sun ducked its halo behind the horizon, leaving a purple-orange gradient in its wake. He surveyed the space briefly, kicking over a bag leaned against the nearest stump. The greenish-yellow tarp strung up nearby caught him for an instant. A twinge of that same feeling beckoning him elsewhere drew him forwards. He hooked a finger, oh so carefully, on the opening flap. Curiosity, curiosity… ]
[ An owl cooed abruptly, and all at once he seemed to recall his mission. He dropped his hand from the tarp, turning briskly on one heel and marching onwards yet again. A church mouse, plump and unaware, slept softly in its den as he passed. ]
[ It wasn't much longer before he emerged exactly where he needed to be. An all too familiar hunk of concrete stood where it did not belong- crumbling slowly underneath creeping moss and vines. His cape dragged upon the path as he crept forwards. Closer, closer. At the door, he stopped, and lifted a hand to slide over the rusted metal. The feeling that had brought him this far had finally dulled-- though it was entirely out of satisfaction. He smiled, softly, in a way that corrupted the expression as a whole-- ]
[ -- And then he knocked. ]
{ @know-i-loathe-you }
[ With a gentle hum, the man behind stone walls stood from his chair, lifted Pansy up to his shoulder, and made his way to the door. He knew Gerard had mentioned something about a potential guest soon, very likely this world's version of Ray, and so he'd taken the time to straighten out his space and make it a bit more welcoming than your classic survival bunker. Maybe when they entered, he could-- ]
[ Nothing, nothing could have prepared him for the sight that lay before him. As the door swung open, the soldier's eyes focused oddly, affixed at Gerard's eye-height, but only seeing fabric. His thoughts moved too fast to recount before they finally settled on danger, danger!, and a familiar wave of bitter, destructive hopelessness took hold of his soul before he settled back in on disbelief. ]
[ No, there's no way. This can't be happening. (How did he get back?) This is some sort of trick, something unnatural, like that talking puppet. (Is he coming back for me?) We should run, we should hide, (we should--) ]
[ The soldier continued to stand there, mouth agape, before finally snapping back into reality and stepping outside, hearing the door close firmly shut behind him. ]
. . . .
[ He took in the sight in silence. Moments passed. Maybe it was mere seconds, maybe it was minutes. Time means nothing to a man who has all of it in the world. He tipped his head slowly, eyes dragging up and down Lin's form behind tinted glasses. He drank him in. His shoulders had not lost a proper soldier's stature, but his eyes had regained a rebel's ember. How unfortunate. ]
My Sentinel . . .
[ My. The one word spoke a thousand more back into existence. His property-- that is what Lin would always be. His best work to date. His project, his design, his pawn. Perfectly placed upon the board. Waiting to call checkmate, in all of its unassuming little glory. ]
[ He clicked his tongue softly, as if he had not a doubt in his mind that this was all according to a plan that he'd kept between himself and God. A hand lifted, slowly, and his cape followed the arm until it could no longer hold on- sliding off and wilting back at his side. Cold leather brushed the underside of Lin's jaw and a thumb pressed a little too harshly into his chin. The Dictator drew his head up with such a grip, tipping him from side to side... not truly looking him over, but instead, testing his compliance to the action at all. ]
. . . You're looking a bit rough around the edges.
[ He could have screamed laughed made a sound as his chin was held, but he did not. He opened his mouth to speak, a look of hopelessness pure joy neutrality overtaking the man as his voice came out hushed. ]
My Dictator.
[ Lin stood frozen, allowing the Dictator to move and touch him as he pleased. His thoughts swirled and blended, the only difference between them now being in tone; thy still spoke entirely different phrases. ]
[ You finally came for me! ] [ You finally came for me. ]
I wasn't expecting guests.
[ I thought you'd never find me here! ] [ I thought you'd never find me here. ]
[ If his fear wasn't evident before, it was now, a sense of deep shame washing over him at the revelation that he'd abandoned his battle-ready instincts in favor of "enjoying his time". What sort of fool was he, to think he would ever be free? To think that he might be happy existing as a "person"? ]
[ Happy? Is that what this is? Look at yourself. ] [ Think. Come on, think! What now? Where do we go? ]
Certainly not. I can't imagine you have many at all out here... But that leads me to wonder just why you haven't made it a priority to adopt yourself into the city. A responsible soldier would have pounced on the opportunity. Making things difficult for me, aren't you, Sentinel?
[ He carefully watched those puppy dog eyes waiver between conflicting emotions before they settled on something akin to seasickness. Releasing his chin with the graze of fingertips across it once more, he huffed softly through his nose. He wasn't equipped with any proper sort of tools to draw Lin back into the net here. Manually reconditioning Gerard had only been a minor, tedious success back when he'd experimented with such a concept... but he'd have to make do regardless ]
. . . If not taking up post, then just what have you been occupying your time with, mm? Or do I truly need to ask...? I don't, do I. We both know it's nothing you were trained for. Irrelevant. Wasteful.
[ The sun had finally given up, drowning in the all consuming darkness of the night and taking its assistance with it. The moon provided little in return, instead, causing shadows to loom further over the scene. Behind dense brush, two sets of wolfish eyes blinked to life. They stared wild and wide for a fleeting moment, and then settled into soft arches. Laughing. They were laughing. ]
You disappoint me, Franklin.
[ If Lin did notice the wolves, he made no indication of it, his mind far too centered on despair (not to say, of course, their laughter did not affect him). The certainty in the Dictator's tone made him want to claw at his skin, desperately repent, even knowing he would only find salvation in flames. ]
I...
[ Stuttering? Apologizing? What sort of a man are you? ]
[ FrankLin stood up straighter, a soldier's glare in his eye. ]
I've been looking for a way to return.
[ I am a fraud. ]
[ His shaking hands began to still as Lin rightfully centered himself. Not a whole lie, but almost certainly one. He was looking for a way to return to the comforts of home, but only the comforts, and decidedly not those that could be brought about by returning to his old self. He really should know better. He made me this way. Into the man who hates his own skin. Hates stagnation. Hates his own truth. ]
Do you not remember? There is nothing to return to. You were sent here with a directive. A divine purpose. I assumed you'd be smart enough to understand it was not mere coincidence... I suppose, perhaps, I've made too many positive assumptions of you lately.
[ The yonder eyes did not move, gazing on from their concealment. They wouldn't approach, not without command. They, certainly, were good at following orders-- and maintaining loyalty. Fields that Lin was starting to lack in yet again. They would feast on the weakened runt the moment their master allowed it. ]
. . . We'll be starting from the ground up, then. I should've had a feeling things would turn out this way. If you want something done right, well, do it yourself, no?
[ He briefly raised his chin, peering overtop of Lin at the closed door behind him like he could see right through. Gerard was on his mind. Poor Michael's bones rotted somewhere buried long before the fall of DRAAG, likely sharing a shallow grave alongside Raymond's-- he didn't care to specify where the bodies had been thrown. But Gerard... He had been spared alongside the good soldier. The little beast was likely prowling around somewhere now, and he wondered just how his favored rebel had been settling in if Lin was any show of it. ]
[ Shame. Disgust. Envy. There is nothing but revulsion for the rot that infests his decaying form. Perhaps he truly did die back home; this form was hardly his own. ]
[ Yes... come to think of it, yes, he was starting to remember. (Remember what?) Surely the gap in his mind was falsified, made simply to absolve the Sentinel of his duties. (The lazy bastard.) ]
. . . My Dictator--
[ The breath was stolen from his lungs as Lin fell to one knee, his guilt overwhelming him. For all of his conditioning, he always held a rebellious streak; keeping his status as the Dictator's finest meant that flame could be snuffed at any sign of danger. It wasn't something he had to put effort into controlling -- for better or for worse, he had to survive. ]
[ His head held low, and eyes cast downwards, the soldier somewhat submit. ]
There are... no words for how I've failed you.
[ The corner of the man's mouth twitched, as if he was hardly resisting a smirk. Condescending and cruel. He felt no pity towards the groveling bastard, standing still and tall as he looked down upon Lin's crumpled form. What a pathetic waste of a good soldier. ]
Then save them.
[ Finally, finally, a hand extended downwards. Fingers carded with false affection through soft curls. Lin had been letting it grow out. He pet the man like a dog for a long few moments, savoring the instinctive submission that he'd broken into him. ]
[ Then just as the tenderness began, it ended. He gripped harshly at Lin's scalp, yanking his chin up and bringing a boot to the plush of his tummy in the same motion. It was hardly a kick compared to what he was capable of-- but there was no need for anything more than a warning shot ]
I want a detail together by tonight. All of your contacts, all of your recon, all that you know of this place. Written and ready for me. I'll send the boys to retrieve it, and you will give them no fuss. Am I clear? Can you accomplish that much, at the very least?
[ The kick only brought Lin closer to the ground, but anything was better than six feet under. (He should be grateful he's not dead.) ]
Yes, sir.
[ The words came automatically as his mind pieced together what his Dictator had really said to him. The boys-- so the twins are here. I'll have to let Gerard know once His Greatness leaves. Still, for as instinctual as those words were, they were no further from truth as his compliance; he was ready and prepared to offer his sources, what little he had, and to share what he knew of this place. If his Dictator was here to stay, he may as well know where he's going. ]
Good boy. Now get up. You know better than to be on your knees without my command. It's repulsive.
[ His expression turned to a dramatic sneer to back his disgust as he took a singular step away from the soldier, like he was more worried about dirtying his boots. In truth, Lin had always looked the same to him. No matter his devotion nor appearance, he would always be a filthy little mutt. The rebellion left unsavory stains on every inch of him that no amount of leather and lashings could reverse. ]
Where is the city's entry from here? I see its stretch against the sky just that way. I'll be headed in for a while. It should be quiet enough at this time.
[ He'd need to find somewhere to set up, of course. Provided lodging wasn't offered to him by the officials when he appeared before them. Even then he doubted he would trust such a thing. If he knew himself, his desire to eliminate competition would likely trump any curiosity of seeing through a mirror. That was a concern he'd pass on to the twins, inevitably leaving them to hunt down some sort of building to temporarily stake claim on. ]
[ Franklin stood, eyes still cast downwards. ]
South of here is a quiet entry point. Follow the trail for ten minutes, then head east for another five.
[ His tone was stable, despite his trembling hands. Survive, now. ]
To the west is a lake. North is more trees. Head east too early and you'll hit concrete.
Perfect. Then we've nothing more to discuss for now.
[ As much as he had about a hundred questions locked and loaded for the soldier, a certain, delicate song and dance was to be maintained. His attention was a luxury, and neglect, a powerful tool. He'd reel Lin back in the same way he had maintained him in the first place. Now that he'd seen his... beloved Dictator once more, he'd be left to writhe alone for a while. Following through on orders would have him rewarded with more time and conversation. ]
Ah-- One more thing, actually...
[ He leaned forwards a bit, the movement abrupt enough that his intentions to draw Lin's gaze upwards once more had no doubt been accomplished. His eyes bored through the soldier even past dark lenses. ]
You are not to inform Gerard of my presence. That is a meeting I will attend in person. Trust that I will know if you choose to go against my wishes.
[ I want to deal the blow. I want to watch every ounce of hope leave his eyes and be replaced with despair. I want to watch him crumble just from the mere sight of me, the same as I have you just now. ]
[ A sharp inhale into charred lungs. ]
[ That was the first thing he took from this DRAAG. This universe. It would not be the last. The moisture-sweetened air was something he hadn't experienced for quite some time, and it took an effort to convince himself to release his breath once more. The forest chirped softly on all sides, wind rustling the treetops as they leaned away from his presence. Below, the grass whined its unheard pleas for mercy beneath heavy soles with each step. Forwards. The scratch of branches against his cheeks as he shoved through did not phase him. ]
[ He did not utter a sound as he pushed forwards, drawn by something… important. The siren's call of something he needed. Someone. Despite what felt like an endless expanse of dense brush, he knew exactly where he needed to go ]
[ A camp laid in a small, unimpressive clearing. The crudely built firepit had burned itself out as the sun ducked its halo behind the horizon, leaving a purple-orange gradient in its wake. He surveyed the space briefly, kicking over a bag leaned against the nearest stump. The greenish-yellow tarp strung up nearby caught him for an instant. A twinge of that same feeling beckoning him elsewhere drew him forwards. He hooked a finger, oh so carefully, on the opening flap. Curiosity, curiosity… ]
[ An owl cooed abruptly, and all at once he seemed to recall his mission. He dropped his hand from the tarp, turning briskly on one heel and marching onwards yet again. A church mouse, plump and unaware, slept softly in its den as he passed. ]
[ It wasn't much longer before he emerged exactly where he needed to be. An all too familiar hunk of concrete stood where it did not belong- crumbling slowly underneath creeping moss and vines. His cape dragged upon the path as he crept forwards. Closer, closer. At the door, he stopped, and lifted a hand to slide over the rusted metal. The feeling that had brought him this far had finally dulled-- though it was entirely out of satisfaction. He smiled, softly, in a way that corrupted the expression as a whole-- ]
[ -- And then he knocked. ]
{ @know-i-loathe-you }
[ With a gentle hum, the man behind stone walls stood from his chair, lifted Pansy up to his shoulder, and made his way to the door. He knew Gerard had mentioned something about a potential guest soon, very likely this world's version of Ray, and so he'd taken the time to straighten out his space and make it a bit more welcoming than your classic survival bunker. Maybe when they entered, he could-- ]
[ Nothing, nothing could have prepared him for the sight that lay before him. As the door swung open, the soldier's eyes focused oddly, affixed at Gerard's eye-height, but only seeing fabric. His thoughts moved too fast to recount before they finally settled on danger, danger!, and a familiar wave of bitter, destructive hopelessness took hold of his soul before he settled back in on disbelief. ]
[ No, there's no way. This can't be happening. (How did he get back?) This is some sort of trick, something unnatural, like that talking puppet. (Is he coming back for me?) We should run, we should hide, (we should--) ]
[ The soldier continued to stand there, mouth agape, before finally snapping back into reality and stepping outside, hearing the door close firmly shut behind him. ]
. . . .
[ He took in the sight in silence. Moments passed. Maybe it was mere seconds, maybe it was minutes. Time means nothing to a man who has all of it in the world. He tipped his head slowly, eyes dragging up and down Lin's form behind tinted glasses. He drank him in. His shoulders had not lost a proper soldier's stature, but his eyes had regained a rebel's ember. How unfortunate. ]
My Sentinel . . .
[ My. The one word spoke a thousand more back into existence. His property-- that is what Lin would always be. His best work to date. His project, his design, his pawn. Perfectly placed upon the board. Waiting to call checkmate, in all of its unassuming little glory. ]
[ He clicked his tongue softly, as if he had not a doubt in his mind that this was all according to a plan that he'd kept between himself and God. A hand lifted, slowly, and his cape followed the arm until it could no longer hold on- sliding off and wilting back at his side. Cold leather brushed the underside of Lin's jaw and a thumb pressed a little too harshly into his chin. The Dictator drew his head up with such a grip, tipping him from side to side... not truly looking him over, but instead, testing his compliance to the action at all. ]
. . . You're looking a bit rough around the edges.
[ He could have screamed laughed made a sound as his chin was held, but he did not. He opened his mouth to speak, a look of hopelessness pure joy neutrality overtaking the man as his voice came out hushed. ]
My Dictator.
[ Lin stood frozen, allowing the Dictator to move and touch him as he pleased. His thoughts swirled and blended, the only difference between them now being in tone; thy still spoke entirely different phrases. ]
[ You finally came for me! ] [ You finally came for me. ]
I wasn't expecting guests.
[ I thought you'd never find me here! ] [ I thought you'd never find me here. ]
[ If his fear wasn't evident before, it was now, a sense of deep shame washing over him at the revelation that he'd abandoned his battle-ready instincts in favor of "enjoying his time". What sort of fool was he, to think he would ever be free? To think that he might be happy existing as a "person"? ]
[ Happy? Is that what this is? Look at yourself. ] [ Think. Come on, think! What now? Where do we go? ]
Certainly not. I can't imagine you have many at all out here... But that leads me to wonder just why you haven't made it a priority to adopt yourself into the city. A responsible soldier would have pounced on the opportunity. Making things difficult for me, aren't you, Sentinel?
[ He carefully watched those puppy dog eyes waiver between conflicting emotions before they settled on something akin to seasickness. Releasing his chin with the graze of fingertips across it once more, he huffed softly through his nose. He wasn't equipped with any proper sort of tools to draw Lin back into the net here. Manually reconditioning Gerard had only been a minor, tedious success back when he'd experimented with such a concept... but he'd have to make do regardless ]
. . . If not taking up post, then just what have you been occupying your time with, mm? Or do I truly need to ask...? I don't, do I. We both know it's nothing you were trained for. Irrelevant. Wasteful.
[ The sun had finally given up, drowning in the all consuming darkness of the night and taking its assistance with it. The moon provided little in return, instead, causing shadows to loom further over the scene. Behind dense brush, two sets of wolfish eyes blinked to life. They stared wild and wide for a fleeting moment, and then settled into soft arches. Laughing. They were laughing. ]
You disappoint me, Franklin.
[ If Lin did notice the wolves, he made no indication of it, his mind far too centered on despair (not to say, of course, their laughter did not affect him). The certainty in the Dictator's tone made him want to claw at his skin, desperately repent, even knowing he would only find salvation in flames. ]
I...
[ Stuttering? Apologizing? What sort of a man are you? ]
[ FrankLin stood up straighter, a soldier's glare in his eye. ]
I've been looking for a way to return.
[ I am a fraud. ]
[ His shaking hands began to still as Lin rightfully centered himself. Not a whole lie, but almost certainly one. He was looking for a way to return to the comforts of home, but only the comforts, and decidedly not those that could be brought about by returning to his old self. He really should know better. He made me this way. Into the man who hates his own skin. Hates stagnation. Hates his own truth. ]
Do you not remember? There is nothing to return to. You were sent here with a directive. A divine purpose. I assumed you'd be smart enough to understand it was not mere coincidence... I suppose, perhaps, I've made too many positive assumptions of you lately.
[ The yonder eyes did not move, gazing on from their concealment. They wouldn't approach, not without command. They, certainly, were good at following orders-- and maintaining loyalty. Fields that Lin was starting to lack in yet again. They would feast on the weakened runt the moment their master allowed it. ]
. . . We'll be starting from the ground up, then. I should've had a feeling things would turn out this way. If you want something done right, well, do it yourself, no?
[ He briefly raised his chin, peering overtop of Lin at the closed door behind him like he could see right through. Gerard was on his mind. Poor Michael's bones rotted somewhere buried long before the fall of DRAAG, likely sharing a shallow grave alongside Raymond's-- he didn't care to specify where the bodies had been thrown. But Gerard... He had been spared alongside the good soldier. The little beast was likely prowling around somewhere now, and he wondered just how his favored rebel had been settling in if Lin was any show of it. ]
[ Shame. Disgust. Envy. There is nothing but revulsion for the rot that infests his decaying form. Perhaps he truly did die back home; this form was hardly his own. ]
[ Yes... come to think of it, yes, he was starting to remember. (Remember what?) Surely the gap in his mind was falsified, made simply to absolve the Sentinel of his duties. (The lazy bastard.) ]
. . . My Dictator--
[ The breath was stolen from his lungs as Lin fell to one knee, his guilt overwhelming him. For all of his conditioning, he always held a rebellious streak; keeping his status as the Dictator's finest meant that flame could be snuffed at any sign of danger. It wasn't something he had to put effort into controlling -- for better or for worse, he had to survive. ]
[ His head held low, and eyes cast downwards, the soldier somewhat submit. ]
There are... no words for how I've failed you.
[ The corner of the man's mouth twitched, as if he was hardly resisting a smirk. Condescending and cruel. He felt no pity towards the groveling bastard, standing still and tall as he looked down upon Lin's crumpled form. What a pathetic waste of a good soldier. ]
Then save them.
[ Finally, finally, a hand extended downwards. Fingers carded with false affection through soft curls. Lin had been letting it grow out. He pet the man like a dog for a long few moments, savoring the instinctive submission that he'd broken into him. ]
[ Then just as the tenderness began, it ended. He gripped harshly at Lin's scalp, yanking his chin up and bringing a boot to the plush of his tummy in the same motion. It was hardly a kick compared to what he was capable of-- but there was no need for anything more than a warning shot ]
I want a detail together by tonight. All of your contacts, all of your recon, all that you know of this place. Written and ready for me. I'll send the boys to retrieve it, and you will give them no fuss. Am I clear? Can you accomplish that much, at the very least?
[ The kick only brought Lin closer to the ground, but anything was better than six feet under. (He should be grateful he's not dead.) ]
Yes, sir.
[ The words came automatically as his mind pieced together what his Dictator had really said to him. The boys-- so the twins are here. I'll have to let Gerard know once His Greatness leaves. Still, for as instinctual as those words were, they were no further from truth as his compliance; he was ready and prepared to offer his sources, what little he had, and to share what he knew of this place. If his Dictator was here to stay, he may as well know where he's going. ]
Good boy. Now get up. You know better than to be on your knees without my command. It's repulsive.
[ His expression turned to a dramatic sneer to back his disgust as he took a singular step away from the soldier, like he was more worried about dirtying his boots. In truth, Lin had always looked the same to him. No matter his devotion nor appearance, he would always be a filthy little mutt. The rebellion left unsavory stains on every inch of him that no amount of leather and lashings could reverse. ]
Where is the city's entry from here? I see its stretch against the sky just that way. I'll be headed in for a while. It should be quiet enough at this time.
[ He'd need to find somewhere to set up, of course. Provided lodging wasn't offered to him by the officials when he appeared before them. Even then he doubted he would trust such a thing. If he knew himself, his desire to eliminate competition would likely trump any curiosity of seeing through a mirror. That was a concern he'd pass on to the twins, inevitably leaving them to hunt down some sort of building to temporarily stake claim on. ]
[ A sharp inhale into charred lungs. ]
[ That was the first thing he took from this DRAAG. This universe. It would not be the last. The moisture-sweetened air was something he hadn't experienced for quite some time, and it took an effort to convince himself to release his breath once more. The forest chirped softly on all sides, wind rustling the treetops as they leaned away from his presence. Below, the grass whined its unheard pleas for mercy beneath heavy soles with each step. Forwards. The scratch of branches against his cheeks as he shoved through did not phase him. ]
[ He did not utter a sound as he pushed forwards, drawn by something… important. The siren's call of something he needed. Someone. Despite what felt like an endless expanse of dense brush, he knew exactly where he needed to go ]
[ A camp laid in a small, unimpressive clearing. The crudely built firepit had burned itself out as the sun ducked its halo behind the horizon, leaving a purple-orange gradient in its wake. He surveyed the space briefly, kicking over a bag leaned against the nearest stump. The greenish-yellow tarp strung up nearby caught him for an instant. A twinge of that same feeling beckoning him elsewhere drew him forwards. He hooked a finger, oh so carefully, on the opening flap. Curiosity, curiosity… ]
[ An owl cooed abruptly, and all at once he seemed to recall his mission. He dropped his hand from the tarp, turning briskly on one heel and marching onwards yet again. A church mouse, plump and unaware, slept softly in its den as he passed. ]
[ It wasn't much longer before he emerged exactly where he needed to be. An all too familiar hunk of concrete stood where it did not belong- crumbling slowly underneath creeping moss and vines. His cape dragged upon the path as he crept forwards. Closer, closer. At the door, he stopped, and lifted a hand to slide over the rusted metal. The feeling that had brought him this far had finally dulled-- though it was entirely out of satisfaction. He smiled, softly, in a way that corrupted the expression as a whole-- ]
[ -- And then he knocked. ]
{ @know-i-loathe-you }
[ With a gentle hum, the man behind stone walls stood from his chair, lifted Pansy up to his shoulder, and made his way to the door. He knew Gerard had mentioned something about a potential guest soon, very likely this world's version of Ray, and so he'd taken the time to straighten out his space and make it a bit more welcoming than your classic survival bunker. Maybe when they entered, he could-- ]
[ Nothing, nothing could have prepared him for the sight that lay before him. As the door swung open, the soldier's eyes focused oddly, affixed at Gerard's eye-height, but only seeing fabric. His thoughts moved too fast to recount before they finally settled on danger, danger!, and a familiar wave of bitter, destructive hopelessness took hold of his soul before he settled back in on disbelief. ]
[ No, there's no way. This can't be happening. (How did he get back?) This is some sort of trick, something unnatural, like that talking puppet. (Is he coming back for me?) We should run, we should hide, (we should--) ]
[ The soldier continued to stand there, mouth agape, before finally snapping back into reality and stepping outside, hearing the door close firmly shut behind him. ]
. . . .
[ He took in the sight in silence. Moments passed. Maybe it was mere seconds, maybe it was minutes. Time means nothing to a man who has all of it in the world. He tipped his head slowly, eyes dragging up and down Lin's form behind tinted glasses. He drank him in. His shoulders had not lost a proper soldier's stature, but his eyes had regained a rebel's ember. How unfortunate. ]
My Sentinel . . .
[ My. The one word spoke a thousand more back into existence. His property-- that is what Lin would always be. His best work to date. His project, his design, his pawn. Perfectly placed upon the board. Waiting to call checkmate, in all of its unassuming little glory. ]
[ He clicked his tongue softly, as if he had not a doubt in his mind that this was all according to a plan that he'd kept between himself and God. A hand lifted, slowly, and his cape followed the arm until it could no longer hold on- sliding off and wilting back at his side. Cold leather brushed the underside of Lin's jaw and a thumb pressed a little too harshly into his chin. The Dictator drew his head up with such a grip, tipping him from side to side... not truly looking him over, but instead, testing his compliance to the action at all. ]
. . . You're looking a bit rough around the edges.
[ He could have screamed laughed made a sound as his chin was held, but he did not. He opened his mouth to speak, a look of hopelessness pure joy neutrality overtaking the man as his voice came out hushed. ]
My Dictator.
[ Lin stood frozen, allowing the Dictator to move and touch him as he pleased. His thoughts swirled and blended, the only difference between them now being in tone; thy still spoke entirely different phrases. ]
[ You finally came for me! ] [ You finally came for me. ]
I wasn't expecting guests.
[ I thought you'd never find me here! ] [ I thought you'd never find me here. ]
[ If his fear wasn't evident before, it was now, a sense of deep shame washing over him at the revelation that he'd abandoned his battle-ready instincts in favor of "enjoying his time". What sort of fool was he, to think he would ever be free? To think that he might be happy existing as a "person"? ]
[ Happy? Is that what this is? Look at yourself. ] [ Think. Come on, think! What now? Where do we go? ]
Certainly not. I can't imagine you have many at all out here... But that leads me to wonder just why you haven't made it a priority to adopt yourself into the city. A responsible soldier would have pounced on the opportunity. Making things difficult for me, aren't you, Sentinel?
[ He carefully watched those puppy dog eyes waiver between conflicting emotions before they settled on something akin to seasickness. Releasing his chin with the graze of fingertips across it once more, he huffed softly through his nose. He wasn't equipped with any proper sort of tools to draw Lin back into the net here. Manually reconditioning Gerard had only been a minor, tedious success back when he'd experimented with such a concept... but he'd have to make do regardless ]
. . . If not taking up post, then just what have you been occupying your time with, mm? Or do I truly need to ask...? I don't, do I. We both know it's nothing you were trained for. Irrelevant. Wasteful.
[ The sun had finally given up, drowning in the all consuming darkness of the night and taking its assistance with it. The moon provided little in return, instead, causing shadows to loom further over the scene. Behind dense brush, two sets of wolfish eyes blinked to life. They stared wild and wide for a fleeting moment, and then settled into soft arches. Laughing. They were laughing. ]
You disappoint me, Franklin.
[ If Lin did notice the wolves, he made no indication of it, his mind far too centered on despair (not to say, of course, their laughter did not affect him). The certainty in the Dictator's tone made him want to claw at his skin, desperately repent, even knowing he would only find salvation in flames. ]
I...
[ Stuttering? Apologizing? What sort of a man are you? ]
[ FrankLin stood up straighter, a soldier's glare in his eye. ]
I've been looking for a way to return.
[ I am a fraud. ]
[ His shaking hands began to still as Lin rightfully centered himself. Not a whole lie, but almost certainly one. He was looking for a way to return to the comforts of home, but only the comforts, and decidedly not those that could be brought about by returning to his old self. He really should know better. He made me this way. Into the man who hates his own skin. Hates stagnation. Hates his own truth. ]
Do you not remember? There is nothing to return to. You were sent here with a directive. A divine purpose. I assumed you'd be smart enough to understand it was not mere coincidence... I suppose, perhaps, I've made too many positive assumptions of you lately.
[ The yonder eyes did not move, gazing on from their concealment. They wouldn't approach, not without command. They, certainly, were good at following orders-- and maintaining loyalty. Fields that Lin was starting to lack in yet again. They would feast on the weakened runt the moment their master allowed it. ]
. . . We'll be starting from the ground up, then. I should've had a feeling things would turn out this way. If you want something done right, well, do it yourself, no?
[ He briefly raised his chin, peering overtop of Lin at the closed door behind him like he could see right through. Gerard was on his mind. Poor Michael's bones rotted somewhere buried long before the fall of DRAAG, likely sharing a shallow grave alongside Raymond's-- he didn't care to specify where the bodies had been thrown. But Gerard... He had been spared alongside the good soldier. The little beast was likely prowling around somewhere now, and he wondered just how his favored rebel had been settling in if Lin was any show of it. ]
[ Shame. Disgust. Envy. There is nothing but revulsion for the rot that infests his decaying form. Perhaps he truly did die back home; this form was hardly his own. ]
[ Yes... come to think of it, yes, he was starting to remember. (Remember what?) Surely the gap in his mind was falsified, made simply to absolve the Sentinel of his duties. (The lazy bastard.) ]
. . . My Dictator--
[ The breath was stolen from his lungs as Lin fell to one knee, his guilt overwhelming him. For all of his conditioning, he always held a rebellious streak; keeping his status as the Dictator's finest meant that flame could be snuffed at any sign of danger. It wasn't something he had to put effort into controlling -- for better or for worse, he had to survive. ]
[ His head held low, and eyes cast downwards, the soldier somewhat submit. ]
There are... no words for how I've failed you.
[ The corner of the man's mouth twitched, as if he was hardly resisting a smirk. Condescending and cruel. He felt no pity towards the groveling bastard, standing still and tall as he looked down upon Lin's crumpled form. What a pathetic waste of a good soldier. ]
Then save them.
[ Finally, finally, a hand extended downwards. Fingers carded with false affection through soft curls. Lin had been letting it grow out. He pet the man like a dog for a long few moments, savoring the instinctive submission that he'd broken into him. ]
[ Then just as the tenderness began, it ended. He gripped harshly at Lin's scalp, yanking his chin up and bringing a boot to the plush of his tummy in the same motion. It was hardly a kick compared to what he was capable of-- but there was no need for anything more than a warning shot ]
I want a detail together by tonight. All of your contacts, all of your recon, all that you know of this place. Written and ready for me. I'll send the boys to retrieve it, and you will give them no fuss. Am I clear? Can you accomplish that much, at the very least?
[ A sharp inhale into charred lungs. ]
[ That was the first thing he took from this DRAAG. This universe. It would not be the last. The moisture-sweetened air was something he hadn't experienced for quite some time, and it took an effort to convince himself to release his breath once more. The forest chirped softly on all sides, wind rustling the treetops as they leaned away from his presence. Below, the grass whined its unheard pleas for mercy beneath heavy soles with each step. Forwards. The scratch of branches against his cheeks as he shoved through did not phase him. ]
[ He did not utter a sound as he pushed forwards, drawn by something… important. The siren's call of something he needed. Someone. Despite what felt like an endless expanse of dense brush, he knew exactly where he needed to go ]
[ A camp laid in a small, unimpressive clearing. The crudely built firepit had burned itself out as the sun ducked its halo behind the horizon, leaving a purple-orange gradient in its wake. He surveyed the space briefly, kicking over a bag leaned against the nearest stump. The greenish-yellow tarp strung up nearby caught him for an instant. A twinge of that same feeling beckoning him elsewhere drew him forwards. He hooked a finger, oh so carefully, on the opening flap. Curiosity, curiosity… ]
[ An owl cooed abruptly, and all at once he seemed to recall his mission. He dropped his hand from the tarp, turning briskly on one heel and marching onwards yet again. A church mouse, plump and unaware, slept softly in its den as he passed. ]
[ It wasn't much longer before he emerged exactly where he needed to be. An all too familiar hunk of concrete stood where it did not belong- crumbling slowly underneath creeping moss and vines. His cape dragged upon the path as he crept forwards. Closer, closer. At the door, he stopped, and lifted a hand to slide over the rusted metal. The feeling that had brought him this far had finally dulled-- though it was entirely out of satisfaction. He smiled, softly, in a way that corrupted the expression as a whole-- ]
[ -- And then he knocked. ]
{ @know-i-loathe-you }
[ With a gentle hum, the man behind stone walls stood from his chair, lifted Pansy up to his shoulder, and made his way to the door. He knew Gerard had mentioned something about a potential guest soon, very likely this world's version of Ray, and so he'd taken the time to straighten out his space and make it a bit more welcoming than your classic survival bunker. Maybe when they entered, he could-- ]
[ Nothing, nothing could have prepared him for the sight that lay before him. As the door swung open, the soldier's eyes focused oddly, affixed at Gerard's eye-height, but only seeing fabric. His thoughts moved too fast to recount before they finally settled on danger, danger!, and a familiar wave of bitter, destructive hopelessness took hold of his soul before he settled back in on disbelief. ]
[ No, there's no way. This can't be happening. (How did he get back?) This is some sort of trick, something unnatural, like that talking puppet. (Is he coming back for me?) We should run, we should hide, (we should--) ]
[ The soldier continued to stand there, mouth agape, before finally snapping back into reality and stepping outside, hearing the door close firmly shut behind him. ]
. . . .
[ He took in the sight in silence. Moments passed. Maybe it was mere seconds, maybe it was minutes. Time means nothing to a man who has all of it in the world. He tipped his head slowly, eyes dragging up and down Lin's form behind tinted glasses. He drank him in. His shoulders had not lost a proper soldier's stature, but his eyes had regained a rebel's ember. How unfortunate. ]
My Sentinel . . .
[ My. The one word spoke a thousand more back into existence. His property-- that is what Lin would always be. His best work to date. His project, his design, his pawn. Perfectly placed upon the board. Waiting to call checkmate, in all of its unassuming little glory. ]
[ He clicked his tongue softly, as if he had not a doubt in his mind that this was all according to a plan that he'd kept between himself and God. A hand lifted, slowly, and his cape followed the arm until it could no longer hold on- sliding off and wilting back at his side. Cold leather brushed the underside of Lin's jaw and a thumb pressed a little too harshly into his chin. The Dictator drew his head up with such a grip, tipping him from side to side... not truly looking him over, but instead, testing his compliance to the action at all. ]
. . . You're looking a bit rough around the edges.
[ He could have screamed laughed made a sound as his chin was held, but he did not. He opened his mouth to speak, a look of hopelessness pure joy neutrality overtaking the man as his voice came out hushed. ]
My Dictator.
[ Lin stood frozen, allowing the Dictator to move and touch him as he pleased. His thoughts swirled and blended, the only difference between them now being in tone; thy still spoke entirely different phrases. ]
[ You finally came for me! ] [ You finally came for me. ]
I wasn't expecting guests.
[ I thought you'd never find me here! ] [ I thought you'd never find me here. ]
[ If his fear wasn't evident before, it was now, a sense of deep shame washing over him at the revelation that he'd abandoned his battle-ready instincts in favor of "enjoying his time". What sort of fool was he, to think he would ever be free? To think that he might be happy existing as a "person"? ]
[ Happy? Is that what this is? Look at yourself. ] [ Think. Come on, think! What now? Where do we go? ]
Certainly not. I can't imagine you have many at all out here... But that leads me to wonder just why you haven't made it a priority to adopt yourself into the city. A responsible soldier would have pounced on the opportunity. Making things difficult for me, aren't you, Sentinel?
[ He carefully watched those puppy dog eyes waiver between conflicting emotions before they settled on something akin to seasickness. Releasing his chin with the graze of fingertips across it once more, he huffed softly through his nose. He wasn't equipped with any proper sort of tools to draw Lin back into the net here. Manually reconditioning Gerard had only been a minor, tedious success back when he'd experimented with such a concept... but he'd have to make do regardless ]
. . . If not taking up post, then just what have you been occupying your time with, mm? Or do I truly need to ask...? I don't, do I. We both know it's nothing you were trained for. Irrelevant. Wasteful.
[ The sun had finally given up, drowning in the all consuming darkness of the night and taking its assistance with it. The moon provided little in return, instead, causing shadows to loom further over the scene. Behind dense brush, two sets of wolfish eyes blinked to life. They stared wild and wide for a fleeting moment, and then settled into soft arches. Laughing. They were laughing. ]
You disappoint me, Franklin.
[ If Lin did notice the wolves, he made no indication of it, his mind far too centered on despair (not to say, of course, their laughter did not affect him). The certainty in the Dictator's tone made him want to claw at his skin, desperately repent, even knowing he would only find salvation in flames. ]
I...
[ Stuttering? Apologizing? What sort of a man are you? ]
[ FrankLin stood up straighter, a soldier's glare in his eye. ]
I've been looking for a way to return.
[ I am a fraud. ]
[ His shaking hands began to still as Lin rightfully centered himself. Not a whole lie, but almost certainly one. He was looking for a way to return to the comforts of home, but only the comforts, and decidedly not those that could be brought about by returning to his old self. He really should know better. He made me this way. Into the man who hates his own skin. Hates stagnation. Hates his own truth. ]
Do you not remember? There is nothing to return to. You were sent here with a directive. A divine purpose. I assumed you'd be smart enough to understand it was not mere coincidence... I suppose, perhaps, I've made too many positive assumptions of you lately.
[ The yonder eyes did not move, gazing on from their concealment. They wouldn't approach, not without command. They, certainly, were good at following orders-- and maintaining loyalty. Fields that Lin was starting to lack in yet again. They would feast on the weakened runt the moment their master allowed it. ]
. . . We'll be starting from the ground up, then. I should've had a feeling things would turn out this way. If you want something done right, well, do it yourself, no?
[ He briefly raised his chin, peering overtop of Lin at the closed door behind him like he could see right through. Gerard was on his mind. Poor Michael's bones rotted somewhere buried long before the fall of DRAAG, likely sharing a shallow grave alongside Raymond's-- he didn't care to specify where the bodies had been thrown. But Gerard... He had been spared alongside the good soldier. The little beast was likely prowling around somewhere now, and he wondered just how his favored rebel had been settling in if Lin was any show of it. ]
[ A sharp inhale into charred lungs. ]
[ That was the first thing he took from this DRAAG. This universe. It would not be the last. The moisture-sweetened air was something he hadn't experienced for quite some time, and it took an effort to convince himself to release his breath once more. The forest chirped softly on all sides, wind rustling the treetops as they leaned away from his presence. Below, the grass whined its unheard pleas for mercy beneath heavy soles with each step. Forwards. The scratch of branches against his cheeks as he shoved through did not phase him. ]
[ He did not utter a sound as he pushed forwards, drawn by something… important. The siren's call of something he needed. Someone. Despite what felt like an endless expanse of dense brush, he knew exactly where he needed to go ]
[ A camp laid in a small, unimpressive clearing. The crudely built firepit had burned itself out as the sun ducked its halo behind the horizon, leaving a purple-orange gradient in its wake. He surveyed the space briefly, kicking over a bag leaned against the nearest stump. The greenish-yellow tarp strung up nearby caught him for an instant. A twinge of that same feeling beckoning him elsewhere drew him forwards. He hooked a finger, oh so carefully, on the opening flap. Curiosity, curiosity… ]
[ An owl cooed abruptly, and all at once he seemed to recall his mission. He dropped his hand from the tarp, turning briskly on one heel and marching onwards yet again. A church mouse, plump and unaware, slept softly in its den as he passed. ]
[ It wasn't much longer before he emerged exactly where he needed to be. An all too familiar hunk of concrete stood where it did not belong- crumbling slowly underneath creeping moss and vines. His cape dragged upon the path as he crept forwards. Closer, closer. At the door, he stopped, and lifted a hand to slide over the rusted metal. The feeling that had brought him this far had finally dulled-- though it was entirely out of satisfaction. He smiled, softly, in a way that corrupted the expression as a whole-- ]
[ -- And then he knocked. ]
{ @know-i-loathe-you }
[ With a gentle hum, the man behind stone walls stood from his chair, lifted Pansy up to his shoulder, and made his way to the door. He knew Gerard had mentioned something about a potential guest soon, very likely this world's version of Ray, and so he'd taken the time to straighten out his space and make it a bit more welcoming than your classic survival bunker. Maybe when they entered, he could-- ]
[ Nothing, nothing could have prepared him for the sight that lay before him. As the door swung open, the soldier's eyes focused oddly, affixed at Gerard's eye-height, but only seeing fabric. His thoughts moved too fast to recount before they finally settled on danger, danger!, and a familiar wave of bitter, destructive hopelessness took hold of his soul before he settled back in on disbelief. ]
[ No, there's no way. This can't be happening. (How did he get back?) This is some sort of trick, something unnatural, like that talking puppet. (Is he coming back for me?) We should run, we should hide, (we should--) ]
[ The soldier continued to stand there, mouth agape, before finally snapping back into reality and stepping outside, hearing the door close firmly shut behind him. ]
. . . .
[ He took in the sight in silence. Moments passed. Maybe it was mere seconds, maybe it was minutes. Time means nothing to a man who has all of it in the world. He tipped his head slowly, eyes dragging up and down Lin's form behind tinted glasses. He drank him in. His shoulders had not lost a proper soldier's stature, but his eyes had regained a rebel's ember. How unfortunate. ]
My Sentinel . . .
[ My. The one word spoke a thousand more back into existence. His property-- that is what Lin would always be. His best work to date. His project, his design, his pawn. Perfectly placed upon the board. Waiting to call checkmate, in all of its unassuming little glory. ]
[ He clicked his tongue softly, as if he had not a doubt in his mind that this was all according to a plan that he'd kept between himself and God. A hand lifted, slowly, and his cape followed the arm until it could no longer hold on- sliding off and wilting back at his side. Cold leather brushed the underside of Lin's jaw and a thumb pressed a little too harshly into his chin. The Dictator drew his head up with such a grip, tipping him from side to side... not truly looking him over, but instead, testing his compliance to the action at all. ]
. . . You're looking a bit rough around the edges.
[ He could have screamed laughed made a sound as his chin was held, but he did not. He opened his mouth to speak, a look of hopelessness pure joy neutrality overtaking the man as his voice came out hushed. ]
My Dictator.
[ Lin stood frozen, allowing the Dictator to move and touch him as he pleased. His thoughts swirled and blended, the only difference between them now being in tone; thy still spoke entirely different phrases. ]
[ You finally came for me! ] [ You finally came for me. ]
I wasn't expecting guests.
[ I thought you'd never find me here! ] [ I thought you'd never find me here. ]
[ If his fear wasn't evident before, it was now, a sense of deep shame washing over him at the revelation that he'd abandoned his battle-ready instincts in favor of "enjoying his time". What sort of fool was he, to think he would ever be free? To think that he might be happy existing as a "person"? ]
[ Happy? Is that what this is? Look at yourself. ] [ Think. Come on, think! What now? Where do we go? ]
Certainly not. I can't imagine you have many at all out here... But that leads me to wonder just why you haven't made it a priority to adopt yourself into the city. A responsible soldier would have pounced on the opportunity. Making things difficult for me, aren't you, Sentinel?
[ He carefully watched those puppy dog eyes waiver between conflicting emotions before they settled on something akin to seasickness. Releasing his chin with the graze of fingertips across it once more, he huffed softly through his nose. He wasn't equipped with any proper sort of tools to draw Lin back into the net here. Manually reconditioning Gerard had only been a minor, tedious success back when he'd experimented with such a concept... but he'd have to make do regardless ]
. . . If not taking up post, then just what have you been occupying your time with, mm? Or do I truly need to ask...? I don't, do I. We both know it's nothing you were trained for. Irrelevant. Wasteful.
[ The sun had finally given up, drowning in the all consuming darkness of the night and taking its assistance with it. The moon provided little in return, instead, causing shadows to loom further over the scene. Behind dense brush, two sets of wolfish eyes blinked to life. They stared wild and wide for a fleeting moment, and then settled into soft arches. Laughing. They were laughing. ]
You disappoint me, Franklin.
[ A sharp inhale into charred lungs. ]
[ That was the first thing he took from this DRAAG. This universe. It would not be the last. The moisture-sweetened air was something he hadn't experienced for quite some time, and it took an effort to convince himself to release his breath once more. The forest chirped softly on all sides, wind rustling the treetops as they leaned away from his presence. Below, the grass whined its unheard pleas for mercy beneath heavy soles with each step. Forwards. The scratch of branches against his cheeks as he shoved through did not phase him. ]
[ He did not utter a sound as he pushed forwards, drawn by something… important. The siren's call of something he needed. Someone. Despite what felt like an endless expanse of dense brush, he knew exactly where he needed to go ]
[ A camp laid in a small, unimpressive clearing. The crudely built firepit had burned itself out as the sun ducked its halo behind the horizon, leaving a purple-orange gradient in its wake. He surveyed the space briefly, kicking over a bag leaned against the nearest stump. The greenish-yellow tarp strung up nearby caught him for an instant. A twinge of that same feeling beckoning him elsewhere drew him forwards. He hooked a finger, oh so carefully, on the opening flap. Curiosity, curiosity… ]
[ An owl cooed abruptly, and all at once he seemed to recall his mission. He dropped his hand from the tarp, turning briskly on one heel and marching onwards yet again. A church mouse, plump and unaware, slept softly in its den as he passed. ]
[ It wasn't much longer before he emerged exactly where he needed to be. An all too familiar hunk of concrete stood where it did not belong- crumbling slowly underneath creeping moss and vines. His cape dragged upon the path as he crept forwards. Closer, closer. At the door, he stopped, and lifted a hand to slide over the rusted metal. The feeling that had brought him this far had finally dulled-- though it was entirely out of satisfaction. He smiled, softly, in a way that corrupted the expression as a whole-- ]
[ -- And then he knocked. ]
{ @know-i-loathe-you }
[ With a gentle hum, the man behind stone walls stood from his chair, lifted Pansy up to his shoulder, and made his way to the door. He knew Gerard had mentioned something about a potential guest soon, very likely this world's version of Ray, and so he'd taken the time to straighten out his space and make it a bit more welcoming than your classic survival bunker. Maybe when they entered, he could-- ]
[ Nothing, nothing could have prepared him for the sight that lay before him. As the door swung open, the soldier's eyes focused oddly, affixed at Gerard's eye-height, but only seeing fabric. His thoughts moved too fast to recount before they finally settled on danger, danger!, and a familiar wave of bitter, destructive hopelessness took hold of his soul before he settled back in on disbelief. ]
[ No, there's no way. This can't be happening. (How did he get back?) This is some sort of trick, something unnatural, like that talking puppet. (Is he coming back for me?) We should run, we should hide, (we should--) ]
[ The soldier continued to stand there, mouth agape, before finally snapping back into reality and stepping outside, hearing the door close firmly shut behind him. ]
. . . .
[ He took in the sight in silence. Moments passed. Maybe it was mere seconds, maybe it was minutes. Time means nothing to a man who has all of it in the world. He tipped his head slowly, eyes dragging up and down Lin's form behind tinted glasses. He drank him in. His shoulders had not lost a proper soldier's stature, but his eyes had regained a rebel's ember. How unfortunate. ]
My Sentinel . . .
[ My. The one word spoke a thousand more back into existence. His property-- that is what Lin would always be. His best work to date. His project, his design, his pawn. Perfectly placed upon the board. Waiting to call checkmate, in all of its unassuming little glory. ]
[ He clicked his tongue softly, as if he had not a doubt in his mind that this was all according to a plan that he'd kept between himself and God. A hand lifted, slowly, and his cape followed the arm until it could no longer hold on- sliding off and wilting back at his side. Cold leather brushed the underside of Lin's jaw and a thumb pressed a little too harshly into his chin. The Dictator drew his head up with such a grip, tipping him from side to side... not truly looking him over, but instead, testing his compliance to the action at all. ]
. . . You're looking a bit rough around the edges.
[ A sharp inhale into charred lungs. ]
[ That was the first thing he took from this DRAAG. This universe. It would not be the last. The moisture-sweetened air was something he hadn't experienced for quite some time, and it took an effort to convince himself to release his breath once more. The forest chirped softly on all sides, wind rustling the treetops as they leaned away from his presence. Below, the grass whined its unheard pleas for mercy beneath heavy soles with each step. Forwards. The scratch of branches against his cheeks as he shoved through did not phase him. ]
[ He did not utter a sound as he pushed forwards, drawn by something… important. The siren's call of something he needed. Someone. Despite what felt like an endless expanse of dense brush, he knew exactly where he needed to go ]
[ A camp laid in a small, unimpressive clearing. The crudely built firepit had burned itself out as the sun ducked its halo behind the horizon, leaving a purple-orange gradient in its wake. He surveyed the space briefly, kicking over a bag leaned against the nearest stump. The greenish-yellow tarp strung up nearby caught him for an instant. A twinge of that same feeling beckoning him elsewhere drew him forwards. He hooked a finger, oh so carefully, on the opening flap. Curiosity, curiosity… ]
[ An owl cooed abruptly, and all at once he seemed to recall his mission. He dropped his hand from the tarp, turning briskly on one heel and marching onwards yet again. A church mouse, plump and unaware, slept softly in its den as he passed. ]
[ It wasn't much longer before he emerged exactly where he needed to be. An all too familiar hunk of concrete stood where it did not belong- crumbling slowly underneath creeping moss and vines. His cape dragged upon the path as he crept forwards. Closer, closer. At the door, he stopped, and lifted a hand to slide over the rusted metal. The feeling that had brought him this far had finally dulled-- though it was entirely out of satisfaction. He smiled, softly, in a way that corrupted the expression as a whole-- ]
[ -- And then he knocked. ]
{ @know-i-loathe-you }
