Come now, don't be so harsh! Where's your sense of romance?
[Cold and dead and long-abandoned, Lobelia imagines. He has no qualms with showing off, of course, his movements flowing and needlessly dramatic as he snaps his opponents into ruin... ah, but then Vergilius had to go and say something unnecessary, didn't he?
Sighing in disappointment, Lobelia turns to him and clicks his tongue.]
The Blue Reverberation... Talk about a lack of originalité! Say what you will, but there is nothing impressive about a corps.
[DO BETTER, SCRUB. Though that's true - whatever understanding he had of it is long gone, buried in its own little graveyard of the heart.]
[Ah, he's a little annoyed by that. Good. Feeling a sense of accomplishment, he approaches - one monster is at the other's side, and he swiftly moves, gladius almost nicking the other's shoulder as he lunges to pierce through its skull.]
[He stares down, red eyes blazing through his hair.]
Spend less time feeling jealous of a corpse and more time watching your back, Lobelia.
[Why does Vergilius suppose Lobelia invited him here? There's no better date than one that puts both of their talents to use, is there? If that isn't romantic, Lobelia doesn't want to know what is.
Ah... On second thought, he does understand Vergilius' love language. His blade whistles past, nearly carving into his shoulder, but of course Lobelia isn't so lucky as to taste the business end of the other man's weapon. If only... All the same, he seizes the opportunity to loop an arm around Vergilius and palm the small of his back.]
Why should I when I have you? Heheh. Besides, we're nearly out of monsters. Only two remain...
[...And that would be them. The scent of death is stinging and pungent, settling thickly in the air, but it doesn't bother Lobelia one bit. It certainly doesn't dissuade him from attempting to tug Vergilius flush against him.]
[The gladius burns - only a flick of the wrist is enough to let it exit out of its target with the oddly sweet scent of burning flesh. But before he's able to step back, the man's hand has snaked around him, like a coil of a tentacle from an octopus's lair.]
[He makes his displeasure apparent with the show of teeth, using his free hand to grasp the other by the shoulder before pushing it away with his palm. Monsters? Ah. He glances around, before realizing what the other is referring to, and he can't help the roll of eyes in clear exasperation.]
Astute observation there. You should become a detective.
[A dry set of statements as he lets his other arm settle with the now-cooling gladius at his side. Death hangs over them both like a shadow. He barely notices it because this, unfortunately, is normal.]
[And it seems its exactly the same for the man currently attempting to embrace him.]
[Ah, playing hard to get... Lobelia can hardly claim to be disappointed when there's something to be said for the thrill of the hunt. He wouldn't find it much fun to torment and tease Vergilius if he simply swooned and fell into his arms, so when he's firmly rebuked and shoved at, all he can do is chuckle in delight. He'll have you yet, pasta man.]
That's not a bad suggestion! To play the role of both the coupable and the détective... Mm, that might be fun!
[But then who would chase him? Giving chase is always exhilarating, but it's also thrilling to think back on how many times he's eluded the law and gotten away with his myriad crimes. After all, no one would think a single man capable of leveling an entire city in an instant.]
But I would rather leave the role of détective to someone better suited to the task. Perhaps you would accept the honor?
[Guess who still hasn't given up on embracing Vergilius? Determined to infuriate him, Lobelia's dug his fingers into the fabric of his clothing to hang on tight and tug him back into close proximity.]
[And this, truly, is the frustration of Lobelia. He isn't meaning to play hard to get. It's simply in his very nature, wanting to stay on the sidelines and push away anyone who gets close. And yet here the man is, waltzing over his line, entering his personal space, and yet only finding more and more amusement in every ounce of rejection Vergilius brings to the table. To perhaps dissuade him would mean rushing forward into his arms and being as obnoxious as him, or going to the other end of the spectrum, he could be as cold as a statue, but Vergilius can't find it in himself to act as either. He can't.]
[How infuriating it is, that his very nature is like honey to Lobelia's flies.]
And what, you'd want me to chase you all over town? Is that it? [He grunts at the feeling of the man pressing his hand in, still unrelenting. His hand also digs his fingers into the other's shoulder, as mirror, but to push away.] Hm. Guess I'm a lazy detective. I won't chase you.
[Even when Vergilius is much more like vinegar than honey, Lobelia finds the taste of him on his tongue just as saccharine sweet. It's not unlike the unique sweetness of a rotting corpse, not unlike the taste of decay, and there's no washing such a thing away.
Yanking and tugging at his filthied clothing isn't enough. Vergilius isn't giving him the attention he's owed, but never one to sit on the sidelines and pout over his misfortune, Lobelia is determined to claw it out of him.
I won't chase you, Vergilius flatly states, and it's in that moment that Lobelia licks a stripe up his bloodied, sullied cheek and thrusts his way into his mouth to share the acrid tang with him. Doesn't destruction taste heavenly? If he can give his date no finer gift, let it be the reminder of how sweet death can taste.
Lobelia hums, speaking directly through those vibrations into Vergilius' skull. He's become rather fond of this trick as of late.]
If you refuse to pursue me, you'll quickly find yourself becoming the one pursued instead. What would you rather be, Vergilius? The coupable or the victime?
[He half expected it. It's funny how he's half expecting things out of him, now. Lobelia is predictable, in his own horrible little way. When given what he wants, he revels in it, when its pulled away from him, he chases after it. And here, with Vergilius attempting to stay resolute, he goes after him with that lick and invasive little snake tongue of a kiss.]
[He shudders at it, more from the sensation than anything (the taste is almost familiar, after all, it isn't as if blood has magically been spared from his face in the midst of battle). The voice comes again, like a hum in the back of his mind.]
[He hates this party trick. Damned little audio devil.]
[But! The good news, he thinks, as he settles into his previous little plan of Giving As Little As Possible, is that he can't even answer this question. His mouth is preoccupied! He's not the one with the audio trick!! As if to emphasize how stupid he thinks this is, he lets out a little sigh into the kiss, tip of his tongue pressing against the other's as he returns it akin to a light slap on the wrist.]
[Vergilius is falling back on a tactic that previously worked, no surprises there, but Lobelia has no intention of repeating what happened last time. He doesn't like being ignored, need it be said, but he isn't so aggrieved that he considers biting Vergilius' tongue right out of his mouth. No, that will come later.
For now, Lobelia has a different punishment in mind, humming in such a way that Vergilius' entire body vibrates, warms him from the inside out. Who needs a hitachi magic wand when you have Lobelia? He's so useful.]
Non, non, ignoring me won't do at all! I showed you a good time, didn't I? You should thank me properly.
[A little gasp of a breath - the vibrations are moving through him, in and under his skin. It's a blossoming warmth he's not used to. It feels as anathema to him as any sort of physical affection. Pain from a battle is something he'll tolerate. This makes his face pinch tight, though, and now he's no longer letting the kiss linger, but actively pulling away to cut the connection.]
[His voice comes out hoarse, reaching up to grab a handful of the other's hair, pulling it back to growl down at him.]
[Struck a nerve, did he? Vergilius is no longer tolerating any ounce of this, so with a put upon sigh, Lobelia relents. It's just like this stubborn old man to ruin his fun...
Lobelia settles back, but he doesn't go far.]
Oh? Is there a problème?
[Does he need to ask a question with such an obvious answer? For the sake of getting under Vergilius' skin and ensuring he sticks there, he absolutely does.]
[Of course there is. Of course he knows the answer to that. He feels toyed with. Batted at, like a paw playing around with a little animal. It doesn't make him feel small, necessarily, but one thing Vergilius never liked is to feel that someone is gaining the upper hand. Is it pride? Hard to say. Is it pride when you expect to be the most powerful person in the room because someone put you there?]
[His eyes blazing, he's now attempting to shift away, glancing around as if he can see the exit.]
I owe you nothing.
Edited (can i spell correctly for FIVE MINUTES) 2023-05-24 16:02 (UTC)
[How disappointing. Lobelia lifts his hands into the air as if to suggest that he won't make another move, but no matter how far Vergilius wanders in search of the exit, he won't find it. If he wants to leave, he can, but he'll have to ask.]
Really? That's a shame! I thought you might understand how to treat a date like a proper gentilhomme, but I suppose I misunderstood you. Shame.
[Is physical intimacy really that bad? Who hurt you, Vergilius? He'd at least be able to rest assured that there's little risk of any actual love blooming between them, right?]
[He's ignoring Lobelia for now - he moves away, trudging through the dead bodies of monsters and creatures as he tries to look for the way out. There isn't any. of course. The way he moves, with shoulders a little hunched, intention aggrieved but vaguely desperate, is like a lurching beast that is pacing along the inside of its cage.]
[When his search goes nowhere, he moves back towards the magician. His pants are stained from all the viscera he's trod through. He ignores it, as he always does.]
[His breath comes out with a disbelieving huff.]
This isn't a date. You just invited me to kill monsters. That's all.
[There's some satisfaction to be found in the way Vergilius paces like a cornered beast, desperation in every limb, but Lobelia doesn't let him go. He won't let him go. Not until he's torn apart the last monster crawling through this barren field and left him worse off than he started.
Lobelia chuckles— is that not precisely what a date is? Two people doing what they enjoy and doing it together, but there's no point in saying so when Vergilius is not inclined to listen. Instead, Lobelia simply shrugs his shoulders.]
Are you truly that effrayé? Perhaps you would have an easier time accepting death by my hand than you would the mere concept of a date. Heh! That can be arranged, you know.
[He at least understands that word. Something bristles in his stature, before its smoothed down into the cool edge of anger currently coming from his being. Another trap. Another time he wandered into something only to get something very different indeed. Afraid? How could he be?]
[His mouth draws back in a snarl.]
You wish.
[In regards to arranging his death - that seems like a pipe dream, some pathetic little fantasy. Lobelia has his powers, sure, but he's a Color. They are not equals.]
[We could've made this simple, Lobelia thinks, but that remains only as a thought. He's done enough damage, laid enough traps to keep Vergilius fuming on his own. It's his turn to affect calm and see how much ignoring Vergilius' demands stirs the anger within him.]
Non, you know I don't answer to demands any better than you do. Why don't you try asking nicely? Here, I'll even teach you the words: S'il vous plaît, laissez-moi partir, monsieur Lobelia!
[He's not one for full-on curses, but here, it feels necessary. A way to bludgeon his dissatisfaction onto the other's head without actively pulling a weapon on him.]
Oh my! Comport yourself with élégance, Vergilius. You're being crass.
[Such anger... It's music to his ears, Lobelia's only regret that he hadn't managed to capture that curse within the confines of a conch. It's a mistake he won't make a second time.]
[The grunt that comes from him might as well just be another "fuck you", just unspoken - Vergilius is again turning to pace around quietly, his gladius clenched in his hand as he moves to the Ignore Everything Ever and Stew In Your Own Anger phase.]
[Poor, poor Vergilius... Lobelia really doesn't feel bad for him at all. It's amusing to watch him pace about and stew in his anger, and Lobelia leaves him to it for a time, but he eventually pipes up with a suggestion.]
Give me what I'm owed and I'll let you leave. Comprendre?
[Right, right, no deals. It's just a shame the one in the position of power here is not you, Vergilius. In the face of hell itself, Lobelia simply grins.]
Baise-moi à mort.
[It's a simple request, one he hasn't given up on.]
[He grits his teeth. Helpless. Vulnerable. Useless. So much power, and there's no outlet for it. Like the man is holding him in his hand, and refusing to let up the pressure.]
[He could stay here forever. He really could. He's not even that averse to it - a place of nothing but death is fitting for the karma of his dark soul, is it not? But then again, he has something to walk towards. A light to keep alive. He can't be here in this place, he can't be made to be someone else's plaything in a game of sacrifice.]
[He pushes his bangs back with a gnarled hand to slide over his head and back, before glowing back over at the other man. It feels like a heel pressing into his shoulders, making him bow his head.]
........Not here.
[At least let him the dignity of not doing it among viscera.]
[This is revenge, Lobelia thinks. Karmic retribution for that terrible sadness Vergilius forced him to reconcile with. He never wants to feel such unpleasant emotions again, but the threat of that feels so very distant now. With Vergilius given no other choice to relent, how can Lobelia feel anything but ecstatic? This is happiness. This time, he's sure of it.]
Bon garçon! You're a man of your word, aren't you, Vergilius?
[With a snap of his fingers, the world around them begins to dissipate and crumble. The monsters disappear along with it, but the memory of them doesn't, pungent and staining the fabric of their clothes.]
You're free to go for now, but don't keep me waiting. You've been rude enough as it is.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[Cold and dead and long-abandoned, Lobelia imagines. He has no qualms with showing off, of course, his movements flowing and needlessly dramatic as he snaps his opponents into ruin... ah, but then Vergilius had to go and say something unnecessary, didn't he?
Sighing in disappointment, Lobelia turns to him and clicks his tongue.]
The Blue Reverberation... Talk about a lack of originalité! Say what you will, but there is nothing impressive about a corps.
no subject
[DO BETTER, SCRUB. Though that's true - whatever understanding he had of it is long gone, buried in its own little graveyard of the heart.]
[Ah, he's a little annoyed by that. Good. Feeling a sense of accomplishment, he approaches - one monster is at the other's side, and he swiftly moves, gladius almost nicking the other's shoulder as he lunges to pierce through its skull.]
[He stares down, red eyes blazing through his hair.]
Spend less time feeling jealous of a corpse and more time watching your back, Lobelia.
no subject
[Why does Vergilius suppose Lobelia invited him here? There's no better date than one that puts both of their talents to use, is there? If that isn't romantic, Lobelia doesn't want to know what is.
Ah... On second thought, he does understand Vergilius' love language. His blade whistles past, nearly carving into his shoulder, but of course Lobelia isn't so lucky as to taste the business end of the other man's weapon. If only... All the same, he seizes the opportunity to loop an arm around Vergilius and palm the small of his back.]
Why should I when I have you? Heheh. Besides, we're nearly out of monsters. Only two remain...
[...And that would be them. The scent of death is stinging and pungent, settling thickly in the air, but it doesn't bother Lobelia one bit. It certainly doesn't dissuade him from attempting to tug Vergilius flush against him.]
no subject
[The gladius burns - only a flick of the wrist is enough to let it exit out of its target with the oddly sweet scent of burning flesh. But before he's able to step back, the man's hand has snaked around him, like a coil of a tentacle from an octopus's lair.]
[He makes his displeasure apparent with the show of teeth, using his free hand to grasp the other by the shoulder before pushing it away with his palm. Monsters? Ah. He glances around, before realizing what the other is referring to, and he can't help the roll of eyes in clear exasperation.]
Astute observation there. You should become a detective.
[A dry set of statements as he lets his other arm settle with the now-cooling gladius at his side. Death hangs over them both like a shadow. He barely notices it because this, unfortunately, is normal.]
[And it seems its exactly the same for the man currently attempting to embrace him.]
no subject
That's not a bad suggestion! To play the role of both the coupable and the détective... Mm, that might be fun!
[But then who would chase him? Giving chase is always exhilarating, but it's also thrilling to think back on how many times he's eluded the law and gotten away with his myriad crimes. After all, no one would think a single man capable of leveling an entire city in an instant.]
But I would rather leave the role of détective to someone better suited to the task. Perhaps you would accept the honor?
[Guess who still hasn't given up on embracing Vergilius? Determined to infuriate him, Lobelia's dug his fingers into the fabric of his clothing to hang on tight and tug him back into close proximity.]
no subject
[How infuriating it is, that his very nature is like honey to Lobelia's flies.]
And what, you'd want me to chase you all over town? Is that it? [He grunts at the feeling of the man pressing his hand in, still unrelenting. His hand also digs his fingers into the other's shoulder, as mirror, but to push away.] Hm. Guess I'm a lazy detective. I won't chase you.
no subject
Yanking and tugging at his filthied clothing isn't enough. Vergilius isn't giving him the attention he's owed, but never one to sit on the sidelines and pout over his misfortune, Lobelia is determined to claw it out of him.
I won't chase you, Vergilius flatly states, and it's in that moment that Lobelia licks a stripe up his bloodied, sullied cheek and thrusts his way into his mouth to share the acrid tang with him. Doesn't destruction taste heavenly? If he can give his date no finer gift, let it be the reminder of how sweet death can taste.
Lobelia hums, speaking directly through those vibrations into Vergilius' skull. He's become rather fond of this trick as of late.]
If you refuse to pursue me, you'll quickly find yourself becoming the one pursued instead. What would you rather be, Vergilius? The coupable or the victime?
no subject
[He shudders at it, more from the sensation than anything (the taste is almost familiar, after all, it isn't as if blood has magically been spared from his face in the midst of battle). The voice comes again, like a hum in the back of his mind.]
[He hates this party trick. Damned little audio devil.]
[But! The good news, he thinks, as he settles into his previous little plan of Giving As Little As Possible, is that he can't even answer this question. His mouth is preoccupied! He's not the one with the audio trick!! As if to emphasize how stupid he thinks this is, he lets out a little sigh into the kiss, tip of his tongue pressing against the other's as he returns it akin to a light slap on the wrist.]
no subject
For now, Lobelia has a different punishment in mind, humming in such a way that Vergilius' entire body vibrates, warms him from the inside out. Who needs a hitachi magic wand when you have Lobelia? He's so useful.]
Non, non, ignoring me won't do at all! I showed you a good time, didn't I? You should thank me properly.
no subject
[A little gasp of a breath - the vibrations are moving through him, in and under his skin. It's a blossoming warmth he's not used to. It feels as anathema to him as any sort of physical affection. Pain from a battle is something he'll tolerate. This makes his face pinch tight, though, and now he's no longer letting the kiss linger, but actively pulling away to cut the connection.]
[His voice comes out hoarse, reaching up to grab a handful of the other's hair, pulling it back to growl down at him.]
Stop. Enough of this.
no subject
Lobelia settles back, but he doesn't go far.]
Oh? Is there a problème?
[Does he need to ask a question with such an obvious answer? For the sake of getting under Vergilius' skin and ensuring he sticks there, he absolutely does.]
no subject
[Of course there is. Of course he knows the answer to that. He feels toyed with. Batted at, like a paw playing around with a little animal. It doesn't make him feel small, necessarily, but one thing Vergilius never liked is to feel that someone is gaining the upper hand. Is it pride? Hard to say. Is it pride when you expect to be the most powerful person in the room because someone put you there?]
[His eyes blazing, he's now attempting to shift away, glancing around as if he can see the exit.]
I owe you nothing.
no subject
Really? That's a shame! I thought you might understand how to treat a date like a proper gentilhomme, but I suppose I misunderstood you. Shame.
[Is physical intimacy really that bad? Who hurt you, Vergilius? He'd at least be able to rest assured that there's little risk of any actual love blooming between them, right?]
no subject
[When his search goes nowhere, he moves back towards the magician. His pants are stained from all the viscera he's trod through. He ignores it, as he always does.]
[His breath comes out with a disbelieving huff.]
This isn't a date. You just invited me to kill monsters. That's all.
no subject
Lobelia chuckles— is that not precisely what a date is? Two people doing what they enjoy and doing it together, but there's no point in saying so when Vergilius is not inclined to listen. Instead, Lobelia simply shrugs his shoulders.]
Are you truly that effrayé? Perhaps you would have an easier time accepting death by my hand than you would the mere concept of a date. Heh! That can be arranged, you know.
no subject
[He at least understands that word. Something bristles in his stature, before its smoothed down into the cool edge of anger currently coming from his being. Another trap. Another time he wandered into something only to get something very different indeed. Afraid? How could he be?]
[His mouth draws back in a snarl.]
You wish.
[In regards to arranging his death - that seems like a pipe dream, some pathetic little fantasy. Lobelia has his powers, sure, but he's a Color. They are not equals.]
[(And yet, you're trapped...)]
Call this off. And I'm not making any more deals.
no subject
Non, you know I don't answer to demands any better than you do. Why don't you try asking nicely? Here, I'll even teach you the words: S'il vous plaît, laissez-moi partir, monsieur Lobelia!
no subject
[He's not one for full-on curses, but here, it feels necessary. A way to bludgeon his dissatisfaction onto the other's head without actively pulling a weapon on him.]
Let me out.
no subject
[Such anger... It's music to his ears, Lobelia's only regret that he hadn't managed to capture that curse within the confines of a conch. It's a mistake he won't make a second time.]
no subject
[The grunt that comes from him might as well just be another "fuck you", just unspoken - Vergilius is again turning to pace around quietly, his gladius clenched in his hand as he moves to the Ignore Everything Ever and Stew In Your Own Anger phase.]
[It really is a pity there's no monsters left.]
[Well, there is one.]
[But this isn't a monster he can kill.]
no subject
Give me what I'm owed and I'll let you leave. Comprendre?
no subject
[He turns on his heel, eyes burning to the point they'd likely catch something on fire, as billowing as a flame.]
What are you even owed, exactly?
no subject
Baise-moi à mort.
[It's a simple request, one he hasn't given up on.]
no subject
[He grits his teeth. Helpless. Vulnerable. Useless. So much power, and there's no outlet for it. Like the man is holding him in his hand, and refusing to let up the pressure.]
[He could stay here forever. He really could. He's not even that averse to it - a place of nothing but death is fitting for the karma of his dark soul, is it not? But then again, he has something to walk towards. A light to keep alive. He can't be here in this place, he can't be made to be someone else's plaything in a game of sacrifice.]
[He pushes his bangs back with a gnarled hand to slide over his head and back, before glowing back over at the other man. It feels like a heel pressing into his shoulders, making him bow his head.]
........Not here.
[At least let him the dignity of not doing it among viscera.]
no subject
Bon garçon! You're a man of your word, aren't you, Vergilius?
[With a snap of his fingers, the world around them begins to dissipate and crumble. The monsters disappear along with it, but the memory of them doesn't, pungent and staining the fabric of their clothes.]
You're free to go for now, but don't keep me waiting. You've been rude enough as it is.
(no subject)