Continued from Here
He all but jumped at the sound of her voice, having in his moment of haze accepted that he was alone, neglecting that one or two subjects here were even capable of human speech, let alone any trace amount of intelligence. It was quickly wiped away as he stood straight as his back would allow, (though years of hunching over his work did little for it) as he strode towards her. His current favorite subject. Not as pure blooded as a true Cetra but if Aerith had been good enough then so was she. Not to mention she seemed to be of a different line, it would provide all kinds of data useful to understanding them. It also gave hope there may be more unaccounted for alive.
Some might say getting his attention in his current mood was a bad idea. Others would call it the worst idea.
One hand came to rest hard on the glass, staring her in the eyes. Even through those dark lenses she could see it. There was something almost feral about them. Beyond his usual calculated madness there was something wilder, something more unpredictable. Yes the man was mad but there was always a method to it, even if it was one only he could understand. Deep in those eyes he kept hidden behind lenses right now though, that sense was gone.
Perhaps she could feel it, perhaps she couldn’t. The warnings, the whispers, the name of the calamity surrounding him. Perhaps she could feel the very source of his madness, or at least one of those sources. Perhaps she too could hear her whispers trying to comfort her most loyal of pets into service.
<<Don’t Trust her. You know how it goes>>
His gaze hardened at the whisper and as close as he was to the glass, as close as he was to Eden perhaps she couldn’t just hear it, but see the faint tell tale glow of green that didn’t completely overtake his eyes so dark they were nearing on the side of black, but still gave an inhuman edge to them for the most split hairs of a second.
“I can’t see how that would much matter to you C-2” she didn’t have a name proper to him, just a designation. CC-002, or C-2 for short in referring to her. “Unless you’re looking to be a glutton for punishment.”
That feral look spread, from his eyes to a grin on his face, his hand all but clawing at the glass now- looking at him she could almost trick herself into thinking he was the one behind the glass and not herself. His forehead almost resting against it as he chuckled. “Would you like to see just how much that body of yours can truly endure - keep asking me pointless questions.”
@shadowxcetra
She nearly burst out laughing at seeing him lift from the floor. It was a refreshing change to see him being afraid for once. After all the cold stings of needles, the stab of white lights in her eyes, the fizzing illness that hung about her aching head once the agonizing day drew to an isolating close. Through the struggles, his face remained the same. That foul sneer, barely a twitch of emotion, distant and safe from any of the horrifying unknown wrought by human hands. For that sweet second, he feared for his own safety, and she had been the cause of it.
The sinister pride she felt from it grew duller with every step Hojo made. The venomous grin spread over pierced lips faded. Something…wasn’t right. Nothing was ever right in this corrupted soul, but this was far different from fractured humanity. This was worse. With his approach came threads of darkness, shadows of something beyond anything she had ever seen upon this Planet. Like an infection they spread forth, branching from his very presence. Once he was just before the glass, Eden realized a lumbering sickness weighing against her. This was unlike the madness’ fever brought upon by the usual whispers; it felt abysmal, like a suffocating winter of death.
Eden drew back. Her hands that itched to throw him down were now close to her chest, assuring she didn’t risk touching him. It was base instinct, detecting this strange disease upon him. He didn’t appear physically afflicted, but the spirits screamed for her to stay away. Something on him was dangerous, unnatural, radiating from him. She feared it could spread to her, forgetting the barrier between them. It was vaguely familiar enough for make her fearful, but what it exactly was, the Cetra couldn’t tell.
The soft, devilishly warm, feminine voice barely reached her ears, something spoke clearly to him but only in serpent-like whispers to her. It made his frigid dark eyes flash with an alien green glow, and dread tightened around her stomach.
Then he called her that. That dehumanizing codename. How she quickly grown to hate it. Anger flared again and she spoke up before catching herself. “Eden.” Like a wildfire growing to life, terror fueled her desire to rip him open. There was no way to run, something she took for granted. He, and this thing that draped over him, needed to get away. Intimidation and harm were the only tools she had in this empty cell.
Her hand twitched, how she wanted to strike the glass and make him flinch. Instead she dared push further, ignoring his warning and wanting to put him in as much unease as she.
“Clearly something was there that mattered, no one just slams something closed unless they don’t want to see it.” The malice on her face was now a forced upon mask. Eden needed to be in some sort of control, she wanted to see him break. “Is it something you regret? Something you can never change, no matter how badly your soul cries for it?”
