If your pet whumpee doesn't want to obey you can just toss them in the crate alone for how ever long it takes them to ache for your presence. Easy peasy!
Some interesting lore on the afterlife (or at least the character's idea of afterlife):
I like how it's a nameless place bc obviously it can't be Heaven or Hell (since in Diablo these are connected dimensions and not related to human souls).
I am so obsessed with the chemistry of these two. They haunt me. Oh my god. Anyway this was beamed into my head this morning and now it is written
Warnings: This is torture, general whump, identity loss, generally dark
“This must get so tiring for you.” His voice was so even and cool, you wouldn’t think he’d been beating them senseless with a rod for the last… she didn’t know how long really. It felt like hours but it could just as easily have been maybe 30 minutes. Time got blurry for them in the sleep deprived state they were in.
“It’s got to be so much effort to keep doing this.” The rattle of beads was all they got in warning before another strike landed on their back, adding to the pain of the bruises that were definitely forming. They hissed at the blooming pain, the way it radiated into white heat across their back. No matter how many times it still hurt but they refused to crumble, refused to take their hands from the table or let their knees buckle.
The sound of the rod clattering onto the ground made him jump, ears immediately swiveling around to find where he was. His shoes clacked on the stone floor, coming around in front of them.
Invix wiped his forehead with a towel looking over the Panthar consideringly. They were perfectly rigid, held in place by nothing but their own muscles. He had to admit it was impressive. “You know, this could be easier.” He said, picking up a water bottle from the table. He made a show of opening it, sloshing the water around inside and drinking it with enough auditory fanfare to ensure they could tell what he was doing.
“Are you thirsty?” He asked in a feigned sense of hospitality.
They glared at him. Well, to the left of him, but he knew it was for him. They opened their mouth and he hovered his thumb over the remote to their collar.
“Please…” The choked word clattered out of them, no profanity or insults, just “please.”
He raised an eyebrow at that, taking interest. “That isn’t how you get water.” He said, tone measured.
“No… please, I’ll…” The beep of the collar cut them off before a shock jolted through their neck and made them fall quiet.
“You can do it.” He leaned on the table. “You know it’ll be so much nicer if you do.” His hand extended, cupping his jaw and rubbing his chin.
The touch made her flinch at first, but the tender pressure, nails scratching at his fur. They were frozen in it, reveling in the tenderness of the touch making the dull ache of pain fade minutely.
“I could get you something nice to eat too. You must be tired of the ration bars and supplements. Get you something from the kitchen. Let you rest too. Oh it could be so nice.”
They wanted that… rest sounded so nice. Real sleep. Not the meager stolen naps they got in stress positions. He couldn’t remember the last real sleep he’d had. And food… real food. They trembled slightly, shaking their head and butting his hand away. They wanted to tell him off. Say no. Say something, but the press of the metal on their collar kept them silent.
“It’s interesting that you stay so stubborn. That you think you have a choice here. You think there’s some ending where I give up.” He said, moving his hand to scratch their ear, playing with their thin mane. “We aren’t operating on a matter of if, you know. It’s more about when. You can keep being obstinate as long as you like.” He combed his fingers through the longer fur. “I have endless patience for you, Filigree.”
The touch was so soft, almost warm. Filigree… The way he purred the name…
They swung their head, snarling. “Bishii” was all they said before the beep on the collar and another shock, this time going all the way down his spine through the implants. The name was faint to them, but it would still well up sometimes. Make a stand when prompted. It was always painful when it did. It hurts so much. It’d sting and ache and shock. The sound might as well mean pain.
Invix made no comment, taking another drink and pouring some water onto his towel to wipe his neck and head. “Very well.. We can get back to it then…”
