[ ❀ 020 ; video ]

[cicumae]

[ click. the video feed: a shaky view of the ground as the communicator's handled with one hand. boots clattering across a stained floor, accompanied by the sound of something heavy being dragged along the floor. the camera flickers up for a moment long enough to flash upon a doorknob -- then there's the click-swish of the door being shoved open

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[action]

[thanatolatry]

[ Even as the orchestra of brutality was preforming the room behind Genkaku, the monk’s lips tightened, a smirk danced along his visage as wisps of smoke emerged from the corners of his mouth, curling around the cigar.

But you know, even past all this shit -- the way Owl was playing a bit of rough-house with some underaged Deadmen little freak -- Genkaku wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the threat that came from the natives. And yeah, he had to let out a frustrated grunt, because it wasn’t any of their fuckin’ business, yeah? He groaned lowly, settled his flying V down on the couch after letting rough fingers corse through a raw melody.

But. Genkaku wasn’t going to risk his ass for some little shit-eating brat. He rolled up on the couch, getting to his feet and made his way to the door, ignoring the loud noises that sent shockwaves of echoes throughout the whole residence.

Strong fingers gripped onto the door handle, and he pushed the door open just in time to see the communicator roll to the ground, flickering off, then his vision was directed to Ganta with a condescending grin before giving his attention to Owl -- his tone unwavering in all it's cruelty and layered with a crude coo. ]

-- Sorry Owl, but looks like playtime’s over.

[action]

[cicumae]

[ a red mist had settled over his vision and his thoughts, and nagi felt like he was watching himself through a six-foot wall of glass. everything felt distant and blurred, detached, and even as he saw ganta rise trembling to his knees, it was only a flat observation that he made. 'i could kill this child.' the orbs of blood continued to hover about him, almost pretty in the way the brilliant red glimmered in the dim lighting, and he took a step forward, head half-bowed and breathing rasping. his dead, dead stare fixed on ganta's trembling form. thinking, blankly, 'i probably should.'

it was only the slam of the door that stilled him in his movements -- and it wasn't so much the sight of genkaku that made him freeze as it was his voice. because even with his thoughts blurring into an incoherent mess, he still remembered, almost unconsciously, how much damage had been dealt to him by this beast. breath hitching in his mangled throat, he fell back a step -- the strength slowly draining out of his limbs. and as much as the hatred surged up in his veins, hatred that found no escape at continued to eat away at him, he also knew that it didn't matter any more. very little did.

shaking his head slightly, he backed away until his back hit the wall, and slowly sank back to the floor, a ragged cough leaving his lips. the orbs of blood hovered in the air for a moment more before splatting to the ground in dark, wet splotches, and nagi fell silent once more. ]

[action]

[cachaemic]

[If Nagi heard him at all, he didn't show any recognition in his face. But he didn't look angry, not at all anymore, almost like he was lashing out in his sleep. Ganta reminded himself that he wasn't doing it on purpose, it's what that monk did to him. And Ganta would have let him if he hadn't stopped on his own.

He was vaguely aware that he was shaking, scared out of his mind that he was going to die. For a moment he was too fixated to remember that Genkaku was in the next room the entire time. Probably listening to everything. That's why he brought him there, wasn't it? He was testing him.

When he entered, Genkaku seemed to tower impossibly over Ganta's small form, as if he could crush him against the bottom of his shoe as he walked past. He hated it. Ganta didn't want to be afraid of him, and he practically snarled back, but he didn't move from where he was.

Why is it over? The words processed slowly; it didn't make sense to him why he kept being saved, but he wasn't ready to assume anything. Either Genkaku was finishing them off or letting them go. Why would he...?

Ganta hadn't thought about it for long before he tensed at Nagi collapsing against the opposite wall. After everything, part of him still wanted to run over and see if he was okay. Instead he looked expectantly at Genkaku, as if he would suddenly care.

He wanted to ask what he meant. What he did to Nagi. Wanted to tell him that it wasn't fair and swear he would pay him back. But threats didn't come out of his mouth; he just hovered there near the door like a good kid and waited for answers.]

[action]

[thanatolatry]

[ Looked like the kid had enough -- it was really too fucking bad, really. The monk kinda hoped that Owl could finish his job but with the bruises and blood that splattered on the ground so prettily, yeah, Genkaku was satisfied enough with Owl’s performance of the whole gig. And it wasn’t like Genkaku was worried for the kid -- mercy and all that? Hah. -- but as long as the kid was still beating and breathing, then that should’ve been good enough for the guy who planned on ruining their concert.

A low hiss and the monk leered over Ganta, the sole of his shoe nudging at the bag of fleshy shit just below him before he talked rather lowly to Nagi, lips pull back and foulness left his mouth with a deep barely-audible chuckle. ]

Don’t worry 'bout it, Owl. Bet you’d get loads of opportunity to carry through your salvation. Guess this fly ain’t worth it, yet.

[ The cruelty of his words curled around a loose dry tongue and he then looked down at Ganta. ]

Looks like these fuckers are pretty damn choosey. Should thank me for being pretty damn merciful, yeah?

[ And with that, he delivered a half-assed kick to the side of Ganta's ribs before leaning down and enclosing his fingers around the kid’s skull, murmuring: ]

'Least you got what you wanted, huh?

[ The words were carelessly thrown out of his mouth as narrow fingers entwined with the brat’s hair before gripping harshly at the neck of the uniform with rough gestures -- but Genkaku lifted him pretty effortlessly with a brutal gaze that was idly tossed to Nagi. ]

Sit tight, we'll get you somethin' else for you to play with later.

[action]

[cicumae]

[ once more slumped against the wall, nagi only watched blankly as the events continued to unfold by the doorway. and though he watched them all, blinkingly slowly, he actually processed very little of it -- because very little of it mattered. some distant part of him was vaguely disappointed that he'd been limited to such a small frame of time to vent his anger -- but that, too, didn't matter much, in the end.

the anger that welled up in his chest wouldn't be going anywhere.

genkaku's words were the only trigger to elicit any response from him, and he answered the leering gaze with a barely perceptible breath out, shoulders tensing ever so slightly against the blood-spattered walls, and eyes flickering with something dark (and hopeless) for a moment. but then it was gone, and he only let his head cant back to rest against the dirty cement.

his throat was still hurting, as was his head, his body throbbing once more now that he'd stopped moving, and he almost wanted to attack either of the other two -- it didn't matter who, it just mattered that he had some way to vent this pent-up rage in his chest. (all the hopes he'd harbored for so long had shattered and crumbled, reduced to this restless, violent urge that wouldn't leave him alone. even though the small modicum of restraint he had left told him that something wrong wrong, this was wrong, he still felt like his lungs would burst with every moment he sat still.

my wife, my child. they never stood a chance. why should any of you?)

without realizing, he'd focused a cold, cold glare on ganta -- eyes narrowed and exhuding a venomous hatred that seemed almost foreign -- and it was maintained for a moment longer before he closed his eyes, a hoarse breath whistling through the wire-stitched scar across his throat.

tired. ]

[action]

[cachaemic]

[Being around the Undertaker filled him with a paralyzing dread, like he was just waiting around for something to kill him, the same way he always felt back in DW. This place wasn't so different, was it? Like Senji said.

Ganta wished he could have stayed out of focus for a minute longer, and promptly felt guilty for it. He came to save Nagi and only managed to get kicked around like a joke and he couldn't even... But Genkaku was still talking, and he hung on his words as he tried to keep himself grounded. Then he mentioned someone being choosy, and stared back in confusion.]

Huh?

[Someone was looking for him? Why did they want him? Senji knew what he was doing, and Shiro wouldn't, would she? Wincing from the sharp kick to his side, he expected him to break his neck or even rip his head off when he laid his hand on him. He was nauseous. And when Genkaku leaned over him, he really thought he would be sick. What I wanted.

He stayed as still as he could manage, but fear and adrenaline made it impossible for him to stop shaking and he could feel the fever-like sweat dripping from his face. He glanced back at Nagi in time to catch his glare and his breath hitched. Of course Nagi had plenty of reasons to hate him. And then if someone was saving Ganta instead--

He should have said that he wouldn't leave without Nagi, but he didn't. When Genkaku lifted him from the ground, he bowed his head and demanded in a voice coated in bitterness.]

What's going on?

[action]

[thanatolatry]

[ Genkaku thought that this kind must’ve been really fucking lucky. Sure as hell must’ve been a special little shit if the leader of this cesspool thought it was worth it to have some bitch take the monk’s prized Deadman to give to his god.

The kid was slung over his shoulder in the same fashion as one would do with their instrument -- Genkaku wasn’t going to pay any attention to this little shit, not when Genkaku walked out of the makeshift torture chamber and nudged the door shut roughly, and not when he walked outside onto the glassy surface, but he let out a grunt after prolonged silence. ]

Huh? -- Guess you don’t know, yeah?

[ The words were murmured, almost inaudible past the sound emitted from Genkaku dropping Ganta on the glass ground in a sluggish careless matter, in which the monk ran a hand through his hair as a useless gesture before rolling the small limp body onto his stomach, and Genkaku crouched down. ]

Looks like some fuckin' shithead's pretty damn sweet on you.

[ A low disgusting laugh had slurred pasted toxin teeth and his lips as the monk eyed the other’s attire with a long wide grin.

It didn’t take long for Genkaku to find the other’s communicator, and with that he settled it down on the cold hard surface, and started the feed. ]