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 Posted: Mon Sep 02, 2013 11:20 am
He had a feeling that tonight would be one hell of a night, but he had no way of knowing just how apeshit crazy it could ever have gone. Had he suspected that he'd be this deep down the rabbit hole before the night was through, he would have probably prevented himself from ever powering up and taking the streets. Fighting Senshi and Knights was always a possibility, but finding himself in the predicament that he was currently in right now? Bothersome, and downright awkward.
Not to say Richard couldn't be a grand host and that he didn't find himself easily falling into the role, despite his distressed state and recent events, but then again, his guest had a way of unnerving him. Not just unnerving him, but scaring the ever living s**t out of him.
He had met Alois twice before, both times he suspected something fowl but intriguing about him, but once he had realized that he was a Negaverse agent, and a quite unique one at that, it really changed his perspective on things. Moments ago, he was refusing to humor is request to transform him into a grotesque creature, but he hoped he would make up for that by humoring the request to help him forget.
If booze and a little roll in the hay didn't help, then Richard Moreau wasn't sure what would. He guided his good friend down the hallways and to his apartment, giving him a fair warning before he opened the door for him to enter his condo. "Baldwin will likely remember you, but I don't think he should hold too much of a grudge. Make yourself at home, please."
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Posted: Mon Sep 02, 2013 1:22 pm
Alois followed dully in the cool night air. It whispered past his face like a wet washcloth, like a grounding sensation. Like a final dismissal to his woes, a sendoff, a pall to cast the shrouds. Maybe this time he might bury a piece of himself here, if only to mark that he'd once been in this man's life. Would it mean anything, their ventures tonight? Did it affect him in the same soul-stirring way? Probably not - that was one of the minutia that composed Richard: few events perturbed that ever-practiced exterior.
Where Alois' demeanor changed infinitely, melded and roiled and swirled within itself, Richard's demeanor remained ever solid. Yet the man was not unlike the candies he peddled - though hard and sweet on the outside, a certain bitterness and sourness lurked beneath. Might he worm his way inside, then? Or must he crack the shell to strike at the soft, spoiled nougat beneath? Regardless of his approach, he would find a way - he always did. Perhaps just the thought of it coaxed a softened smile out of him. From all these thousands of stars that he might've found that last measure of creation...
It was with one of his own.
Richard's voice called him back to reality, and his attention shifted to suit the occasion. Hopefully he didn't notice the heavy silence surrounding the misanthrope, but such a thing was hard to ignore. "Danke dir." Even his smile was muted - a calm surrounding the storm. The lack of air pressure was palpable here;
watch your step.
Breathe deeply.
You'll need it to survive.
Respire for all you're worth. In the end, it's not enough; in the end, all things succumb to that vacant vacuum surrounding the storm.
Though he felt a little sick, he still brushed past his host and into the remarkably impeccable apartment in which the shell of a man lived. Certainly his dog would come to greet the master, as all dogs do, as all men demand. And in time that dog would recognize him, just as Richard explained, though dogs possessed the uncanny ability to sense inner feelings through scent and disposition. Would Baldwin detect that deadly calm? Perhaps. Most likely.
Alois' gaze shifted back toward his host - the brilliant red hair he remembered appeared muted under the lamplight, and his eyes - always so vibrant with possibility - wore a dampened, darker color. Much like ichor, like coagulated blood, his formerly vermillion irises stained the sclera of his eyes. When had this happened? Was Alois really so lost in his own existential sufferings that he failed to mark so great a change in his comrade and companion?
And he called himself observant. How despicable.
"You look like you're in need of a drink," he mentioned offhandedly. Maybe with enough liquor, he might dilute the details out of the man. Yes, he could lose himself to such details right now... An easy endeavor, to be certain.
And a necessary one at best.
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Posted: Tue Sep 03, 2013 4:01 pm
Never before had Richard returned to his own home and felt completely and utterly unwelcomed, but he tried to mask this feeling within him, bury it under so many other not-so-serious thoughts and hope to never experience again. Usually when he brought guests over, there was a hint of excitement in the air, apprehension and a little bit of lingering romance that would last for the night and dissolve into nothing by the morning. But tonight, that feeling was missing, and Richard wasn’t sure which of the two was stifling that energy: his guest, or himself.
Or maybe it was a mixture of both?
He was lucky tonight, as there was no sign of his other tenant, and with anymore luck, she would be so turned away from the dark feeling that had enveloped the condo that she’d stay away. He did not reply to Alois’ show of gratitude, working the alarm and locking up, just as they heard trotting coming from upstairs. Baldwin’s excited yips could be heard, but they were short lived, as the moment he reached the bottom of the staircase, the Irish wolfhound’s legs grew stiff and the sight of the large, lanky beast all but crawling towards his master’s side, watchful eyes on their guest, was almost enough to break the tension in the atmosphere and cause Richard to laugh.
Almost. But he was going to fake it anyways, as he gave Baldwin and affection scratch behind the ears, in hopes of alleviating some of his dog’s hesitation towards approaching Alois. “Now, now, don’t be that way. Go greet our guest like a good dog!”
The dog was reluctant, but eventually he followed after Alois, tail wagging slightly and not showing any fear or aggression, just caution. Meanwhile, his owner continued to play the role of the good host, and at the mention of drinks, he could feel his mouth salivating, as he practically glided to the kitchen. “I think we both could, and a good thing I just stocked up! Now, what can I do you for? I’m no bartender but I can do some fine mixing, if I do say so myself!”
If alcohol didn’t fix this situation, then he’d have to go to plan B, in which, even given the tense situation he found himself, he wasn’t all that opposed to.
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Posted: Wed Sep 04, 2013 9:23 pm
Dogs possessed an instinct sharp enough to pierce the perpetual fog surrounding human intentions. Baldwin was no exception - with all the reservedness in which he acted, Alois knew absolutely that the dug understood a certain deviousness in Richard's newest guest.
Perfect. Ladies and gentlemen, we have a witness.
Alois remained at his full height while he divulged a sliver of affection to the gargantuan dog through scratches on the shell of his ears and beneath the collar. He watched the redhead retreat into the kitchen with his abnormally calm and even gaze, as if awaiting a scene entirely violent and unusual to unfold before him - Richard rushes into the kitchen, and all the gas that had flooded his apartment from the stove finally catches alight from the refrigerator and suddenly the room is repainted in a mixture of blackened char and all the minutia that compose the candyman.
Idly he wondered if the man's viscera smelled as sweet as his confections.
But even the mere mention of it roused sleeping memories, ones determined never to wake. In a vivd start, curling about him and whispering vacant echoes of a time long passed now, he recalled the scene with unerring detail. He met with her earlier in the day, right? No, it must've been several days before. Or maybe it wasn't. But the feeling was there - that still-beating rush from recently engaging with someone. And in those few moments when he passed under one of the air ducts, a smell so sickly sweet assailed him in unrelenting, undulating waves. That same pungent smell carried a harrowing mix - smoky bacon, rotten eggs, both gamey and choking in how it cauterized his nostrils and tore at his throat in that thick haze. Almost like a fire, it was.
He found himself consumed in it before. And now, it reaffirmed its presence in a passing daydream. Would Richard smell any different? Would it matter much, or would the consequences of death pass over him unrecognized? He would've ruminated on the matter, but he soon found himself besieged by sickly nausea.
Finally he crossed into the kitchen, taking up residence n the nearest available barstool. With each item he touched, he made it his own in an almost imperceptible way - as with the barstool, he angled it outward so he sat just outside of perpendicular to the countertop. Afterward his elbows touched down on the solid granite surface and he leaned forward until his triceps stretched out against the cool surface. He laced his fingers against the nape of his neck and watched Richard with interest, as the man readied himself for mixing some hard liquor.
"A white russian will suffice," came his quick reply. As he waited, Alois examined his surroundings - from stainless steel appliances to furniture both chic and classy, Richard's condo was dressed to impress. A strange sight to see, but one very fitting of him; connivers maintain the deepest of feigned images to convince the public, and a fancy place of residence like this only confirmed that sentiment for Richard. However, the true tale of that story lay in his bedroom, though with his companion... That may not be the case.
"If you're as deceiving as you say, how do you possess ze wherewis'al to act so exuberant all ze time? It's admirable - I didn't sink you were quite so scheming when I first met you, but now I see your web of lies even extends to ze decor of your home. People don't get to see ze real you, do zey? You truly are ze personification of candy." A smile curled his lips as he watched his partner intently. His voice dropped for his coming statement. "Attractif', sweet, magnetic... Zen smooz' and delectable... Until you rot zeir tees' out in ze most painful way possible. You are what you hock, Richard. I'm impressed, and I don't say zat often." He laughed, though the sound barely left his throat.
"Did you invite me here to charm me into somesing? Were you looking to manipulate me tonight?"ChibiGingi let me know if the apartment details are ok - i totally bs'd so it's an easy fix!
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Posted: Fri Sep 06, 2013 6:12 pm
Baldwin may have approached and gave Alois a curious sniff, but the dog was still stiff under his touch. He didn't bark or growl, even when that and got close to his neck, and the moment that Richard made his way into the kitchen, Baldwin followed. He didn't flee with his tail between his legs but he made a point to trot at a brisk pace, keeping his chocolate eyes set on his master's guest until he was at the confectioner's side once more. There, he seemed to grow calm, and he even wagged his tail, slapping it against Richard's leg affectionately and causing him to jump. "Now, now, watch that whip of yours! Daddy has very sensitive legs, remember?"
Unaware, and thankfully so, of the thoughts going on in his guest's head, Richard went about his business, grabbing not just glasses, but mixers and even pointless but adorable decorations for the concoctions he would brew this evening. What he needed was a whiskey sour, and he'd need the strongest proof he could find. Anything that would help wipe not only his own memory but his friend's as well. His friend's request for drinks was at least easy for him, much easier than the task he put himself through at least. "White Russian? Coming right up!"
Vodka, coffee-liquor and cream. He could make a White Russian in his SLEEP, though he had little intention of sleeping tonight. No, the only one that would be sleeping in his partner, and he took a casual glance over his shoulder to check on him, as he tried to make a quick estimate of Alois' weight and body mass. Just how much liquor and sleep aids could he give the guy without killing the poor fellow. He'd normally never do this, but for someone to beg their friend to change them into a youma… it felt like the best option at the time. Nyasa could help him, if he took it too far, but somehow, he had a feeling that there wasn't enough tranquilizers in the world that would sedate this man. But that didn't mean he wouldn't be willing to try.
"Acting, dear friend," Richard said in response to his question, working his magic with the cocktails and giving the spoon a lick, just to make sure that the alcohol content was right for both. He hadn't slipped the sleep aids in yet- first he had to make absolutely certain that the drinks were done right! That was key for a good host. He wasn't quite liking where Alois was going with his little analysis, but it wasn't as though he could deny any of it. After all, he was right. A little too right for Richard's tastes. He tried to fight down the impulse to shiver, though when a little of it escaped, he found it easy to blame the cream to liquor ratio in the White Russian, and he turned around to add the finishing touches. "I'd rather my intentions be unclear, because if they were, then others would think they know me. And to know someone gives them the illusion that they own you. And quite frankly I'd rather just n** that notion right at the bud."
He wasn't sure what to make of the candy statement, and again, he felt that he couldn't lie. Not to Alois, and not completely. He found himself beginning to regret his decision to bring this man home, but it was too late to turn him away, and what kind of man would he be if he didn't try to be their for his friend? A sensible one with a healthy fear of death! But Alois wouldn't kill him… at least, that's what he told himself as he brought both drinks onto a tray and made his way into the living room to join his guest. "And thank you. I never quite heard it put that way before and I feel flattered."
It was a lie, but he wasn't eager to talk about that. With any luck, neither was Alois, and he set the White Russian in front of him before taking a set on his loveseat on the side of the couch. "If manipulate is your way of saying 'sexy time', then yes. I intend to get you drunk off your a** and if that doesn't get this silly notion out of your head, then I'm hoping a few rounds in the bedroom will do the trick."Strickenized Nope, looks great to me! One day I'll work a better description for people. Someday. c:
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Posted: Sun Sep 08, 2013 7:26 pm
Alois watched Richard with approval as the redhead relayed an interesting sentiment that he never considered before. Despite being well-acquainted with the character of a schemer, Alois still found him relatively surprising in his own ways. For who else would consider that someone's intimate knowledge of how another behaved might equate to ownership? "You haf' a good point. Zere are very few equal relationships in ze world, be it a couple or solid friends. I haven't considered it until you brought it up, but zere is always a sense of ownership in zose instances - my friend, my fiancée... my lover."
Richard wasn't remotely as vapid as he behaved. And as he continued to talk with the confectioner, he found a growing respect for him - not only could he maintain this admittedly tacky ruse without raising too many suspicions, but he viewed others in a way that was both adept and unique. Idly he wondered what extrapolations Richard possessed in regards to him, and if those thoughts might evolve should he assume the task of becoming a youma.
A youma... Alois assumed a crestfallen countenance. For a moment, his gaze shifted into the distance, thousands of miles beyond the stretch of walls and tempered glass. Beyond Richard. Beyond Destiny City. If Richard could not, would not, undergo the trial of creating a youma, then a botched promotion remained his only option.
Thoughts still swirling with methods to both succeed in the Negaverse and sabotage his own promotion, Alois received the drink absentmindedly. He remained quiet for Several moments following Richard's declaration, and only when the silence settled like dust across the walls, countertops, and minds did he finally resign himself to answer. Even then, he constantly questioned himself for approaching Buddingtonite - despite their kinship, this undertaking would certainly destroy any remaining goodwill between them.
In fact, he wondered if he hadn't overstayed his welcome in the man's life already.
Would that stop him?
No.
Alois sipped his drink in a muted ennui, and responded to his friend in kind. Still, his words lacked warmth due to his thoughts drifting toward life as a youma. "I'd ask why you sink it's so silly, but I doubt you want to focus on zat subject any more zan you haf' to." Alois wished he could relate. He wished he could grasp that conniving inclination to return Richard's statement in spades, or at least surprise the man with his clever quips and unusual returns. he wished he could demonstrate an appreciation for the life he had, if only to set the redhead at ease. He wished he could manifest some inkling of confidence to pursue this further, but dreams and reality were not synonyms these days.
And he certainly doubted their strange company would meander into the bedroom. Richard had higher standards than him, to be certain.
"It's very good," he commented in reference to the drink. As a man of many vices, Richard learned how to mix in a surprisingly excellent fashion, which led Alois to wonder just how long Richard had taken to alcohol. Youmatization must've sounded like a permanent fix to a temporary problem, much like suicide. Was that how his companion viewed his struggle? Nothing more than a whimpering teen grasping for someone to end all his misery through some miraculous, love-starved conclusion?
Suddenly the nausea returned. "I need to know, before I drop ze subject entirely. Why don't you want me to turn into a youma?"
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Posted: Tue Sep 10, 2013 9:36 am
It took much of Richard's effort to not want to roll his eyes in frustration at Alois' words, not wanting him to think him taking light of his predicament but simply annoyed that he kept throwing around this whole ordeal of ownership. It wasn't that Richard didn't want to own something- he would be the first to admit that he was a glutton and a very selfish one at that. He just simply didn't want to think of having that kind of ownership... at least not over a youma. If the youma was a youma when he first found him, that'd be fine, but one that he'd help create.
It made him want to shiver, and he took a swig of his own drink, hoping the bourbon would wash the disgusted taste out of his mouth. It didn't, and deep down inside, he knew it wouldn't, but maybe, just maybe, all he needed was another chance. He gave a halfhearted shrug as he explained, "Yes, but those are mutual cases. Ask the other person and they'll likely say the same thing... well, sometimes. I suppose it can go one way, as I've seen it before."
He was relieved to see Alois at least accept the drink, though very little of that showed as his guest was quick to bring up that taboo topic once more. Richard tried so hard not to want to groan, but it was already too late, and he hoped to stiffen it before it could get out of hand. "You're absolutely right. I don't. There are millions of things to discuss, but that won't be one of them."
And he was going to draw the line, right then and there, he told himself, bringing his drink to his lips and downing it in a few gulps. He wanted nothing more to savor his bourbon and coax Alois into the bedroom to relieve some of that tension, but at least it did his ego good to know that his youma-crazed guest was pleased with his meager bartending skills. Of course, any chance to savor that compliment was tarnished when Alois brought up the topic again, and it took everything, everything for Richard to not slam his emptied glass onto the coffee table with a shout. Surprisingly enough, he maintained most of that impulse to where it neither shattered the glass or the table, but it was clear in his voice that he wasn't too happy. But, he'd answer his friend. "Because then it's a waste of a perfectly good officer, two if you include the sorry sap that you'd manage to convince to do so! You're willing to put yourself into a category of something subhuman, and not content to just throw your own life away, you must take someone else down with you."
He knew that he may have been too harsh and that he was coming off extremely callous, and with someone like Alois, this might have been a gravely error, but he was banking on either cutting deep enough to get through to him, or the smallest bit of sedatives to take effect before he could retaliate to his words. He pointed to his friend and companion, as he added, "That's selfish. And trust me, I know selfish when I see it... I'm the walking definition of it. But not even I'm that selfish..."
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Posted: Mon Sep 16, 2013 7:33 am
Alois laughed, though he did not know why. It wasn't a joyous occasion, or even full of terrible irony, but he laughed nonetheless. It was a solemn, mirthless sound that acted more as a trained reaction than any real indicator of the absolute disdain and cold fury that coursed through his mind in the form of vivid threats and manipulative machinations. "Maybe you should take zis as an indication zat you're failing, Richard." He hadn't the inclination to voice the rest of what he thought; he wasn't one to give himself away quite so easily.
Buddingtonite or Richard Moreau. I don't care what your name is.
I know where you live.
I know where you work.
I know that you have a dog you hold very near and dear.
I know all that I need to know. Do you?
No?
Good.
Perhaps he found some comfort in that train of thought, for a thin, tired smile graced his lips before he took another sip. His vision fixated on the wall adjacent to him, though he found it increasingly difficult to keep it steady. Occasionally a ghost of a movement appeared in his peripheral, but when he chased the shadows, he found nothing. Had he really been awake that long? He knew sleep hadn't come easily since his confrontation with his desire to ascend from humanity, but... Usually he could get away with a couple days before exhaustion truly set in.
Alois stood from where he sat and crossed to a more comfortable chair to occupy - one that was unfortunately leather, but Richard had a certain obsession with the image of class, so he'd have to deal with sticking to the damned thing. Still, he settled into it quite easily, having taken his drink with him, and drank it despite his tiredness. If anything, the alcohol might give him a reason to sleep.
Richard was the epitome of the reactions he'd received, enough to convince him that both voicing feelings and having feelings were diluted affairs full of weakness. And perhaps that only fueled his desire to become the monster everyone so easily labeled him as. Though he found it difficult to stay awake, his mind processed such conclusions with ease, as well as potential ways that he may convince Richard to see his folly.
And if there was anything that could destroy the man, it was his own constant search for a good time.
So Alois would grant him that. And in doing so, he would slowly dismantle the man, and savor every small victory along with it. And when Richard Moreau was only a shadow of himself, a youma or a wraith compared to the proud and charismatic man he used to be, Alois would know he succeeded. And, in turn, the Negaverse would receive a soldier far more capable of the acts they required of him.
For any soldier with nothing to lose is the best soldier to have.
So Alois smiled. Alois laughed. Alois explained that he was feeling far too tired. Alois indicated his weakness. And Alois plotted revenge.ChibiGingi Sorry, didn't see this one til now!
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Posted: Mon Sep 16, 2013 1:50 pm
Richard was a sore loser, and he wasn't afraid to admit this. He hated losing. The very thought of him failing at something, or anything, drove him into a frenzy, and it was hard to ignore the impulse to want to snap at the man for mocking him. Like he needed a reminder that, the twisted logic that was Alois' head, he was destined to fail. And perhaps he should just allow himself to fail? Perhaps he should give Alois what he wanted? He gave an annoyed huff, his smile anything but friendly now. "I'm half wondering if I should just give up on you. After all, if it's within your heart of hearts to become a youma, then why should I stop you?"
He continued his rambling, unaware of Alois' musing or that frightening train of thought of his. Completely unaware that he was falling deeper and deeper into the man's lair. "Maybe being a youma will be a good look for you? Maybe those feathers you sport will sprout into wings, and the fool that turns you can get a sweet ride! Or maybe you'll grow a few extra limbs here and there, or a stinger tail, like a scorpion? Hm... yes, that one would seem more likely. Something venomous, something of which you could spread your poison to others until they're drug down with them."
With his drink still in hand, he pointed to Alois, continuing his little tirade. Had he spent more time actually looking at Alois, he would have seen that his plan was working, but he was simply too flustered at the moment to realize this. "Look, if you wish to become a youma, do it on someone else's time. Not mine. You're a good soldier, if not a little loopy, but I can't afford to have you sully what little I have to my name as it is. Selfish of me, I know, but if no one else is going to look out for number one, than it needs to be me!"
And then, Alois smiled and began to laugh, and just like that, Richard's tirade was over. For a brief moment, he forgot his own plan, and with a shout, he slammed his drink down on the table. The noise sent Baldwin running towards the kitchen, but the red-head was too angry to have noticed, as he stood up and grabbed Alois' arm. "Excuse me, I do not enjoy being mocked! Do you want my help or not? Alois!"
And what a horrible time to remember the something extra he slipped in his drink, and just like that, his anger had transformed into surprise, and then genuine concern. "Alois, how do you feel?"
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Posted: Mon Sep 16, 2013 9:32 pm
RIchard's antagonizing words drowned. Literally. They simply drowned. he had no other means of explaining it.
His breath echoed in his ears - a strange sound, one he was unfamiliar hearing considering how much time he spent outside of himself, neglecting himself, ignoring himself. Yet now... He became painfully aware of all the infinitesimal happenings occurring within his body, from a heavy pulse to sickly-sweet saliva filling his mouth. And no matter how much he swallowed, how loud it was, the repulsive fluid only returned in spades. Alois hated it - hated being reminded of his body's weakness in its current state, and for that, he felt utterly vulnerable in the scope of mortality.
But could Richard manifest the utter, nefarious fortitude required to harm his mind? Of course not, so the night was not entirely at a loss.
But that didn't stop him from panicking, either.
As soon as Richard usurped his arm, wrenched him to his feet, the room oscillated around him in a frenzy. Alois had to draw a heavy breath to stave off a sudden bout of sickness, and he gripped Richard's shoulder in equal fervor. He watched the redhead relentlessly, though it was evident in his eyes that he suffered an increasing difficulty in tracking an image. No matter his burning resolution, Richard's visage constantly eluded his gaze. It coaxed a seething groan out of the misanthrope, who seized on this treachery with abundant derision.
"What ze ******** did you do to me, Richard? Tell me!" He gripped the man's shoulder as roughly as possible, fingernails digging into what meager purchase they found. "Why am I so goddamned dizzy? Are you trying to murder me, now? Or are you trying to use me, to placate me wis' zese stupid ******** shenanigans? Tell me, or I'll ******** skin you alif'e!" He would've continued, he would've drawn his knife on an ally if it provoked an honest answer from a snake charmer, a schemer, a deceiver, but the dizziness only worsened and culminated in a cold sweat.
He had to sit down, but an attempt to do so devolved into a half-fall back into the chair. Breathing was difficult. Focusing was difficult. "You sink a scorpion tail is bad? I don't need to be a youma to do a tausend times worse..." The room slowed from its unconscionable pace to a dull sway. "You want real pain, Richard? Do you want such utter agony zat it leaf's you howling in lament until you're eating lye just to manifest enough pain to distract yourself? Because I can do more zan zat." Since his body slowly calmed its strange condition, Alois took the opportunity to stand.
To thwart the redhead's fiery temperature with his stony gold gaze.
That's right, he thought bitterly. I feel nothing.
"Haf' you ever smelled barbecued dog before?" He paused. A tired smile threatened to spread across his features. "I haf'. Ze hair, you can smell ze sulfur bonds breaking - rotten eggs abound. Zen it cooks ze skin - full of fat, usually. Domesticated dogs, zese days. It smells... so much like bacon. Rich, like pork. Zen zere's zis sickly odor when ze organs start to cook, and ze odor putrefies as ze rotten stomach contents burn from wis'in. Ze blood is sharp, like metal - rife wis' zinc. At zis point, ze pungent smell is so sick zat you find yourself choking in it. It permeates your skin, your eyes, your nostrils... You smell it for days. You find it in your clos'e. You probably burn zem or sell zem to try to escape it, but it remains like a taint, like some caked-on, burnt-on fils' zat you spend your entire life clawing out of your body." Satisfied that Richard digested his speech on a superficial level, Alois attempted an exit.
The floor dipped away from his feet, slanting and rolling and sinking while he tried to make his way toward the door. He knew full well that he burnt that bridge, and he took absolute glory in doing so - to see the dying flicker of flames consume some bastion of order, of connection, of human triumph. And now, razed to ash, he found a comfort in the results.
But even so - he couldn't complete the act. As he tried to walk, tried to meander a path through the apartment, dizziness overtook him and he collapsed to the floor in a fit of uncontrollable lightheadedness.
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Posted: Tue Sep 17, 2013 9:52 am
When he realized that his plan had worked, to an extent, Richard wanted to rejoice and openly mock the fool. Once the drugs had taken full effect, what could Alois do to stop him? His original intention was just to relax the poor fellow, loosen him up and make him more managable, but with the way he was going on, perhaps rendering him completely comatose and unconscious was the way to go. Alois wasn't right in the head, and no amount of wild and intense intercourse was worth the amount of crazy he'd receive before then. So, Richard gave a triumphant sneer, even when Alois clamped his hands on his shoulders. "I gave you something to calm your nerves, Alois. Nothing more. Now settle down... you're going to not only upset Baldwin even more but you'll make the neighbors worry."
His grip was getting awfully painful for someone that was just drugged, and Richard was beginning to wonder if he hadn't put enough in there. Anymore and he might have killed the poor fellow, and that was certainly not his intention. He fought down his conscious as he kept Alois steady, wincing back the pain but keeping his voice pleasant, soothing, and domineering. He was in charge of this situation, and he was going to make sure Alois knew about it!
"I'm not going to murder you, because I'm not an idiot. Not only would the Negaverse have my head for wasting a perfectly capable officer, but I'm certain I could never hide your body from the police, and I have no intention of going to jail. Also, there's no need for such threats." And when Alois pulled himself away and half-fell into the chair, he gave a chuckle and shrugged, as if to use that to prove his point. "At least not for the moment. Maybe once the drugs wear off, maybe, but this is for your own good."
At least, that's what he continued to tell himself, and he was ready to make his way up the stairs, to prepare his room for their guest. He felt confident that he had handled this, and whatever would come in the morning, he'd deal with it then. And yet, though his captive was drugged, his words were still venomous, and it stopped him in his tracks when Alois found a way to threaten him. He kept his back turned, his hands at his side, as he listened to his threats, against him, but more so, against Baldwin. He had lost his temper several times throughout the night and he had thought that he had pushed himself over the limit already, but now, as Alois went into gruesome details, he realized just how wrong he was. He once thought himself incapable of such deep hatred and fear, and yet, why did he feel such a desire to turn around and drive his fist through his chest? He wanted to do so, but something stopped him each time. He could have transformed, he could have ripped out his starseed, or forced so much Chaos into it that it erupted and he became the beast that he so desperately wanted.
But...
He couldn't. What countered that pure, raw rage within him was the undeniable fear. Had it been anyone else that threatened Baldwin, he would have passed it off, yet he knew Alois... he knew Bischofite wasn't the type to leave it at the threat. He would do terrible things, and what could Richard do? Even transformed, what could Buddingtonite do? When he heard a thud, he didn't immediately turn around to face him, and when he spoke, he wasn't sure how he was able to keep the depth of his fear contained, even as his voice cracked. "You wouldn't do that..."
This was a mistake. Bringing Alois here, giving away his identity, exposing him to his weakness. This was a mistake, and one he wasn't sure how to correct.
"Alois," he said, his voice nearly lifeless, but who knew how long. What could he do? How could he protect Baldwin and himself now? "I'm greatly considering the option of killing you anyway."
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Posted: Wed Sep 18, 2013 12:29 am
"Zen do it! Kill me so I don't murder your dog!" He tried to urge himself to his feet once more, but he hardly supported himself on his hands and knees before the effects of the sleeping pills mixed with alcohol and exhaustion sent him to the floor. Despite panting heavily, the minuscule pinpricks of light consuming the corners of his vision did not fade. "Do it so you can proof' you haf' ze spine to do somesing to protect yourself! All you are is flesh and facade; you're a piss-poor pretty face in ze Negaverse, good for nossing more zan luring ze wayward and ze weary!"
The more he spoke, the cold sweat crawled across his skin. The more he spoke, his breathlessness intensified. The more he spoke, his vision narrowed to a point within a sea of stars.
But this did not stop him.
"But you are nossing if not short-sighted - if you kill me, I will pervade you. I will taint your every action and sought. In killing me, you assume a part of me, and part of you will die in ze process. Zis is how it always is - it's not tailored to you or I, it's an intrinsic value to human nature." He spat the last words with disgust. "You won't lif' srough zat. Richard Moreau will die. Buddingtonite will die. You will become somesing else... Somesing not unlike a youma, spiritually." Slowly he started to laugh - that rough, choking laughter coupled with a desperate need to breathe until his vision was reclaimed, until he expelled all the alcohol and sleeping pills and vitriolic hate through respiration. "You would be what I want to become. Ze only difference is you'll lose your mind." He finished his statement softly, almost sentimentally.
As if the dregs of his statement were such a private measure, conducive to a compassionate nature. Though he could not speak anymore, Alois reflected on the situation he now found himself in - sprawled across the floor, unable to move or function in any coherent manner. Unable to leave this situation, but... Curiously he remained in control of it, as long as he was awake and capable to exact his acrimonious wit and revolutionary opinions. He knew Richard - knew him. That timorous, vapid little man couldn't possibly reroute the situation in his favor. He lacked that drive, that idyllic ambition to cease Alois' scathing reactions in a manner that dispelled his submissiveness.
Alois was safe... As long as he was awake. But how long would that last?
How long until Richard woke up and smelled blood in the water?
Alois couldn't wager a guess.
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Posted: Sat Sep 21, 2013 6:06 pm
The more Alois talked, the more Richard was beginning to realize just how much he hated this man, and just how tempting it would have been to simply give in to this impulse within him. Perhaps killing him would have been for the best, and Richard gave a low snarl, a sound that he once thought was completely beneath him. "Careful, Alois… remember I can transform at any moment and rip your starseed cleanly out of your chest, and the Negaverse would never know."
And he was certainly considering it. Would have been easy. He could have lied and said he was unaware of his powered identity, and truly, he felt that the Negaverse would be better off without him. Someone as off kilter as this guy couldn't have been good news for them, and truly, who would miss him? And yet, even before he could transform, Alois had found a way to shoot down that hope, and though he could simply walk up the stairs or leave, he felt paralyzed in the spot at Alois's words, and the unnerving truth he carried with it. With every word, Richard rage was turning into fear, and the trembling that threatened to overtake his body was becoming increasingly harder to control. How the hell was he even standing at this point was beyond him, but he had to find a way to silence him, before he completely lost control over himself.
He stormed towards the mess of a man that decorated his floor and grabbed the collar of his shirt with both hands to pull him into a position where Alois would realize who exactly held his life in his hands, and there was no way of hiding the rage in his voice, nor the fear that fueled it. "Alright… you have my attention… now, what will you have me to? I can't kill you, though that offer is extremely tempting. But what will you have me do? What do I have to do… to keep you from Baldwin?"
The Irish wolfhound heard his name, but he did not come running back. He merely poked his head out where he hid, ears flat against his skull and making it clear that he was too afraid to venture into the living room. Not so long as that man upset his master so...
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Posted: Sun Sep 22, 2013 10:24 am
The world heaved in a motion that he did not trigger himself. He ceased struggling against the destructive combination that neutered his ability to live and breathe and exact his insidious machinations earlier - so what held him now? Though he could not see, Alois suspected Richard now gripped him with a beleaguered, raging force that indicated just how helpless he felt. Amusing it was, to know that Richard retained full control over his own body, yet no control over the cruel situation.
His own rare love stranded him here, and for as long as he held something dear, he would play slave to that very notion.
Alois fully understood that he might die here. Between sleeping pills and alcohol, he might die in his own drug-induced sleep. But if that were the case, he'd take Richard with him. In his last moments, he would poison the man with all of his unforgiving ideals, all the fervor and wit and unmitigated drive he cultivated over nearly twenty years of his life. And through that, Buddingtonite and RIchard would cease to be - only Alois would remain, donning a different husk. Another rendition of Bischofite to unlock the true potential of Destiny City.
But perhaps the best of him would die tonight. "Ze knife at ze sroat is better zan ze knife at ze back... For you can take comfort in knowing where it is." He drew a breath, though it did him no good. "Let me stay." It wasn't a request, a groveling declaration, an order handed down through the Negaverse. From one animal to the next, he asserted his intentions, and Richard would yield in kind.
"And if I die... so will you. So keep me alif'e tonight." To die amidst his dreams was a passing he loathed. If he were to succumb to the mortal coil, he intended to do so in as much explosive pain as he could possibly withstand. He would disperse himself over such great distances that even strangers endured a part of him, lived with a modicum of his tainting will, and through them he might exact a ghost of his intentions. But here, in Richard's house, in Richard's grasp? Impossible.
Alois still smiled - faint, exhausted, half-ebbed before it came to fruition. "You were right, earlier. Even now, you could never be my master. It was a mistake too choose you in ze first place. Dazzle and deceive and demean all you like, but you lack ze nature to dominate somesing like me. You haf' failed on all accounts, Richard. Buddingtonite. Perhaps now ze Negaverse will cull you from its ranks." He tried to laugh, but he could no longer call the energy to do so. It mattered little what his intentions were now - should he even try to manifest them, death would arrive all the same. His fate was not his to decide, nor Richard's, nor the Negaverse's. Death in this manner was due to his folly - and for that, his punishment was to be forgotten.
So ist nun mal das Leben*.*That's life.
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Posted: Mon Sep 23, 2013 9:51 am
Even when unconscious pulled Alois further and further away from this realm, Richard could not deny just how absolutely terrifying he was, and just as part of him hoped that his concoction would allow death to take him, he knew that Alois was right. If he died, here, in his hands, not only would the law come crashing down on him, but the Negaverse would as well. They tolerated no such acts, and as fierce as his frustration was, as much as he wanted to wrap his hands around Alois' exposed and vulnerable neck, he could not bring himself to do it.
Because he was spineless. He was a coward, and a foolish one at that. He was no one's master, as he couldn't even control Alois' fate as he wanted to right now. He wanted him to die, a permanent solution for this temporary problem, but...
"You know, you're damn lucky I didn't give you anymore," Richard snarled when Alois went limp in his arms, and even then, he found little comfort. He had to wait until he was completely and thoroughly unconscious to make a snide comeback. A real man would have spent every second of his victim's ebbing consciousness mocking and ridiculing him, but then there was Richard. He gave a shuddering sigh, dropping his hold on the other man and shaking his head. Baldwin trotted over to his side in a heartbeat, giving his cheek and nose a few protective licks, and the dog would have been content with a scratch behind the ears, but Richard needed more then that. With his hands free, he wrapped his arms around his dog's neck and hung off of it with a hug, and while Baldwin was startled by the sudden display of affection, the dog kept still, hearing his owner's turmoil even when he could not understand his words. "If you know what's best for you, you'll stay away from this man. Do you understand, Baldwin? I don't want you hurt..."
What could the Irish wolfhound dog besides sniff his owner's back and wag his tail? Something had distressed him and he lacked the ability to speak to ask him what was wrong, but he'd remain still if he thought it would please him.
Richard eventually let go of Baldwin, though the dog remained pinned to his side, and he looked down at Alois. He had to keep him alive, and sitting here on the floor certainly wouldn't help that. "You're damn lucky I still have Nyasa's phone number... it'll mean having her nag my ear off, but if anyone can keep you alive, and me out of trouble, she can. Let's go."
He stood to his feet and grabbed Alois' legs, tucking them under his arms and beginning the long, and painful process of dragging him towards the bathroom. While the idea of dragging him up the stairs and having his head continuously bumping up and down humored him, he couldn't risk him either waking up and getting a brain injury in the process, so the downstairs bathroom would have to do until Nyasa got in. And Baldwin kept close, not knowing the cause of his own's turmoil but determined to be there for him. He would protect his owner from this strange man, not once realizing that the same thought crossed Richard's mind as well.
"Don't die, Alois. Don't you dare ********' die..."Strickenized Consider this a wrap. Richard will just leave his a** in the bathroom, if that's okay? XD
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