Pain was long a known quantity in his life thanks to his civilian profession, but there was something unpleasant and unfamiliar in Barbary's claws and teeth. Even the sharp pull of Schörl's hand in his hair was far less distracting or pleasant as it might otherwise have been; circumstances being what they were.
She wasn't insane. Not
truly. More frightening for it, those flame eyes held no fever-gleam of insanity, just a predator's piqued interest. Satisfaction.
She's toying with me. "And if I'm not sane?" Shackled effectively unless he meant to cripple himself, the eternal senshi glowered up at his captor, "Who'd be sane doing this so long? You want some reason for all this, it's to keep you ******** away from
my people. That's it. ******** Sailor Moon and the Silver Millennium, ******** Metallia and the Negaverse or
whatever."
She wanted more of his reality? No, she couldn't have that. Miri and his mom? Faces of friends and loved ones flit across mind's eye, each adding to weight. His
team. No,
never. He'd probably already given too much to the sharp-dressed satan, so instead he put a bit of an 'oh! I get it' expression on his face and went with a different tack "Seduce you? Oh, is
that what this is all about? You just need to get laid?"
"So the 'B' was really for 'booty call', was it? I'm flattered, but no thanks. You're really not my type." Being obtuse on purpose was - and wasn't - difficult; the pain of claw, of fang, the steady pull to his scalp all distracted Aegir and made thought difficult. The fear that she would simply murder him - or take him into the Negaverse as a recruit - kept his pulse racing and soaked the curls at his nape with a cold sweat.
Either he'd made a poor choice...or a
piss-poor choice. He was about to find out.
