Well Logan, you are much more perceptive than Roman, perhaps you'll notice the negative effects your experiment is having on Anxiety.
@skeletonsloverockcandy said: Well Logan, what do you want to know? Also tell Roman to be more gentle next time, he kind of manhandled Anxiety a bit too much and he might have gotten hurt because of that
Anonymous said: I think Virgil's gonna pass out at some point. Either because of stress, panic/anxiety attack, lack of sleep from not feeling safe enough to sleep or from the pain of broken ribs if logan and roman keep going like that. I just hope patton finds out soon and comes to the rescue.
((warning: this one gets heavy & virgil panics))
“Firstly, am I correct in assuming that you’ve experienced this phenomenon before under the same circumstances?” Logan asked, gesturing to Virgil’s size. Virgil nodded slightly. “Alright, I’d like to know the longest you’ve maintained this size in the past.”
“Not this long.” He shot back automatically. Logan gave him a look, and he relented grumpily. “I normally get back to normal within half a day. Thomas gets anxious whenever he lays down to sleep. Gives him too much time to think.” He tapped his temple in emphasis. The corner of Logan’s mouth twitched, a motion so small he may have missed it if he was bigger.
“I believe more time to think would be beneficial for Thomas, to be quite honest. Perhaps if you had diverted your efforts towards preventing more of his future impulses rather than lingering on his past decisions, we would have gotten along better earlier.” Logan said, thoughtfully.
Virgil shrugged, pretending he wasn’t a little stung. “Best way to prevent a future impulse is to make sure he’s so embarrassed he regrets even thinking of it. It’s not like he has much of a penchant for listening to you.”
Logan’s lips thinned slightly, and Virgil shoved his hands in his pockets nervously. When the logical Side spoke, however, it was careful and measured. “I do not think your methods are the easiest or most efficient way of deterring our host, however, this is not the time for a debate. Since we are past the normal amount of time, we should first check that nothing has changed. Are you feeling any pain or abnormal sensations?”
Not because of his size. At least, not directly. “... No.” He lied.
Logan pushed his glasses up. “You paused.”
Shit. “I thought it was a weird question. Don’t you know that Dark Sides can’t even feel pain?” Virgil claimed, blurting the first excuse that came to mind. Logan drew back, a little startled.
“Oh. I did not.” He responded, eyes lit up with curiosity. “I wonder... would physical wounds appear on you? Or are you simply invulnerable?”
Shit. “I’m not a nerd, I don’t pay attention to stuff like that.” Virgil looked away, hoping his dismissal could drop the subject.
“Ah. Well, in that case...” A shadow dropped over him, and his head jerked up in time to see Logan’s hand pass through the glass as though it didn’t even exist.
He was so startled by the movement that he didn’t manage to back up fast enough, and found precise fingers pinching him again, ignoring his wiggling. He winced as he was pulled through the glass, half-expecting to hit it full on, but there was barely a whisper of feeling as Logan brought him out of the box and lifted him to eye level.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Virgil asked sharply, tone contrasting the way his fingers were desperately dug into Logan’s thumb for security. Being this high up at the behest of another, completely at their mercy, never got less nerve-wracking.
Logan glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes, rifling through a drawer. “Hold on, let me simply- ah, found it.”
His other hand lifted, and in it, a scalpel. The blood drained from Virgil’s face so fast that he felt faint, and Logan’s words became white noise in his ears as his breathing grew quick and shallow. He’d fucked up, he’d fucked up and now he was going to be a live dissection subject because it was only logical to use something that couldn’t feel pain, right?
Logan lifted his hand slightly, light reflecting off his glasses and obscuring his eyes, light glinting off the edge of the metal blade, and Virgil’s self-control snapped.
“I LIED, I LIED, I WAS LYING, PLEASE, STOP!” He yelled, voice cracking halfway through the plea. The hands stilled around him, but he continued to stare fixedly at the scalpel until it was lowered out of sight. Sound began to filter back in past his pounding heart.
“... lie about that?” He could see Logan’s eyes now, creased with something like concern or anger. He shook his head, and immediately regretted it as the world spun around him.
“I don’t- I don’t...” Before he could even finish forming the thought, he blacked out.
@pansy-chic27213 said: While a glass box certainly could be very safe from the outside world, Logan, please consider that the inside is probably very slippery. You should probably provide Virgil some kind of soft floor, and eventually a bed (I vote for a stuffed spider, kinda like a bean bag). And please make sure he eats! He hasn’t done so since you and Roman abducted him! And he needs water, please! (And probably also a weighted blanket by this point). I am willing to additional “pleases.”
Anonymous said: Virgil, maybe Logan will be easier on you if you tell him about your injuries?? He did ask! He shouldn't have squeezed you just because you were hungry! >:(
@flameingdarkness said: There are plenty of kinds of torture Lo, and can occur whether you intend it to or not. And besides all that, abduction isn't exactly great for mental health. I'm just saying, when it turns out Anxiety really is important to Thomas, you don't want to hurt him in any way you can't easily rectify. Could you at least make him a little more comfortable in there? Give him a pillow or something?
@skeletonsloverockcandy said: Logan you should give Anxiety a health evaluation to see how he’s doing, it’s only logical 🖖🏼
Logan was already alarmed at the sudden change in demeanor, but that was nothing compared to when Anxiety went completely limp and boneless in his hand. He set the Side down on his table lightly, disoriented. How had this happened?
He’d simply expressed a desire to figure out the answer to his earlier question by pricking Anxiety’s finger with the smallest blade he had, but clearly something had been miscommunicated.
As he pulled his hand out from under the tiny figure, his hoodie tugged up, revealing a bare patch of skin. He wouldn’t have paid it much mind, except for the clear purple blemish that marred it. Biting his lip, Logan muttered an apology before carefully pulling the hoodie up to his neck, revealing a horrific sight.
Rings of heavy bruising circled around his torso, with small patches of blood spots under the skin at several points. What was worse was that beneath those, he could make out patches of green and yellow, older bruises that were beginning to heal. Multiple layers of the injuries, all in the same arrangement...
He laid his fingers across the marks, his touch feather-light. They aligned perfectly, and he felt a strong surge of anger with both Roman... and himself. If this was the harshness with which he’d experienced their treatment, it was no wonder he was so embittered with them. Logan himself had put pressure on these exact points when he was concerned about the tiny Side crying out for Patton, probably exacerbating the pain significantly. Why hadn’t Anxiety told them? Him, at least, if not Roman?
Touching his hands to the base of the box, he concentrated, forming a small, blanket and pillow-laden bed in the corner of it. In his attempt to create a comforting place for the tiny Side, he had accidentally manifested Patton’s bed, which was admittedly slightly embarrassing but he wasn’t willing to waste any more time. As delicately as possible, he picked Anxiety up, frowning at how delicate the unconscious Side looked. Has he even slept?
He placed Anxiety in the bed, making sure his neck was properly placed for optimal muscle relaxation, and then pulled a handkerchief-sized blanket over him and placed a summoned ice pack on top. He set a mental timer for fifteen minutes, and stalked out the door.
He had a Prince to scold.
