Silly haha Hector and Cohen thing. The usual.
Canon typical language and threats of violence yadda yadda
“He is a child, Sander. He is a boy.”
“Have you suddenly grown a spine, Hector? I cannot recall you ever caring for any of the ones before him.”
Hector glared at Cohen through the reflection of the mirror, “None of the ones before him had the potential of passing your fucking tests.”
“Ah! So you do believe in the boy.” Cohen waved a hand, “You are over thinking this. He will have you and Silas and Martin to guide him after I am through shaping him. I can take his potential and turn it into something worth while.”
“You’ll fucking kill him!”
Hector turned towar him, a heavy silence fell over the room that suddenly seemed too small, Hector knew he would pay dearly but he continued, “It’s fucking sick is what it is. You’ll squeeze the life out of anything around you to earn the approval of a man who hasn’t looked at you in years.”
Hector realized his words after they left his lips, signing his own death warrant in blood.
“I would… watch my tone if I were you, Rodriguez.” Cohen’s voice was calm and flat, lacking any of the usual vibrato, “I do not enjoy your judegment. It is unbecoming of one of my own.” He tilted his head to the side, eyes flicking across his second Disciple, “The young Fitzpatrick does display extraordinary talent for a boy of his age.” He mused, running his pointer finger across a red stained lip as he turned away from Hector, “I can see potential trapped within that twitching rabbit of a boy, yearning to break free like the marble carved by artists.” He clasped his hands together, his smile growing tight around the edges as Hector grabbed his arm, forcing his attention back, “Sander I am asking you. As one of your own, to reconsider. You know damn well I don’t ask you for much, don’t make him do this.”
“My dear Hector I am not making him do anything. He agreed to his trial just as all those before him.”
“He doesn’t know what that means. He doesn’t know what will happen if he fails. If you appreciate his talent then observe it from a distance.” Hector knew he, Silas and Martin alike had been pinned like butterflies to be critiqued and observed under Cohen’s harsh lens.
“I think we are done here. Leave me.” Cohen made a dismissive gesture, “I must finish my masterpiece.”
Hector seethed, pacing back and forth at being dismissed, “Fucking hell, Cohen. If you won’t fucking listen to reason I’ll talk to him myself. Fuck this.” he turned on his heel, only to hear the all too familiar sound of a plasmid being used, as soon as he finished his turn he found his employer standing in front of him, a too wide smile stretching across his face as he leaned closer, “If you fuck with my newest muse, I will peel your skin off, cover you in plastar and have you be the centerpiece in the Atrium as a warning to not fuck with me amd I making myself perfectly clear to you, Hector?”
Hector swallowed, nails biting into the meat of his hand as he grit his teeth, “Clear.”
“Splendid.”
Hector left the dressing room, anger bubbling beneath the surface of his skin as he descended the stairs, ignoring Cohen’s words behind him, “Do share my warning to the others! I would hate to see either of them injured on your behalf.”
“Eat shit.” Hector muttered as he entered the upper level of the Atrium, stalking to the stairs before he looked out across the people milling about. He needed a drink.
He hated this fucking city.