(Untitled)
Who: Pavi Largo, Baby Firefly, later Luigi Largo
Where: Baby's room
When: Uhhhh. Will be forward-dating this, so...will update when I know.
What: It's still cool to kill people and peel their faces off, right?
Warnings: Definite language, possibly violence.
( Read more... )
Where: Baby's room
When: Uhhhh. Will be forward-dating this, so...will update when I know.
What: It's still cool to kill people and peel their faces off, right?
Warnings: Definite language, possibly violence.
( Read more... )
"What the fuck are you doing, Pavi?!" she rasped, fighting to keep control on her emotions. She wouldn't cry, didn't want the stupid bastard to see the hurt that was bubbling within her, next to the rage, the self-hatred for trusting anyone but family, and the adrenaline from what was to come.
Without waiting for an answer, she threw the lamp in Pavi's direction as a distraction before whipping around and pounding on Luigi's wall, screaming his name. It didn't occur to Baby to go to Christabella's side of the room: it was probably the better choice.
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What was he doing?
It wasn't as if she was family; it wasn't as if her death would be more trouble than it was worth, or as if he hadn't had his fun with her. He knew he should be bored with her by now, ready to take his souvenir and move on.
But he wasn't. He wasn't satisfied to be that person any more, so ugly inside and out that he needed someone else's face to hide behind. Maybe that had been true for a while, but Pavi was never one to easily recognise the truth about himself.
His grip on the scissors loosened a little.
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That had been all fine and well until the cunt started banging at his wall and screaming out his name. Which, in any other circumstance, might've been a wonderful description. in this case, it wasn't, because she was intruding on his goddamn quiet time. Maybe she finally realized what her 'lover' was like. Not his problem. In fact, that'd be amusing. He was ready to ignore them entirely when there came the sound of something being thrown.
Between reading about celebrity deaths and watching his brother get his ass kicked, he decided the latter would be far more entertaining, so he bookmarked his ( ... )
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"Brother," he said, his voice tight. "There is nothing to - I am not - it is over already." He knew how pathetic he looked, holding what amounted to a weapon that he couldn't - wouldn't - use. He knew that Luigi would mock him or (God forbid) even offer to help him. He didn't care.
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It was hard to tell if she was addressing both Largos or only the one, but she moved her eyes between the two of them. Luigi had locked the door, she recalled this now, possibly too late, and she wasn't sure she had made the right decision. They'd been going at it since day one...why the hell had she brought him into this mess? Shit.
Alright, time to change tactics. Baby focused on Luigi now, her face deadset and serious. "You hate him, right? Said so a thousand fucking times before. Let's take him out."
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He turned to Baby when she began to speak, and the laughter quite abruptly ended when she spoke of their once-intended target. He glared accusingly between the two of them. Before he spoke again, Baby took the time with her offer.
"Hell fucking yeah I do, but you and I? We're nothing." He ignored and went straight to Pavi and punched him square in the jaw. "What the fuck are you thinking?! You know damn well that bitch is mine!" Brother of the year award, right here.
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"I don't want her," he said, his voice quiet and unaccented. "They're all yours, brother. I don't want...any of them."
He didn't. Not in the way he once had. He didn't want to consume her or any other woman in the way he'd used to. He had been trying to revive a desire that had died without his even noticing.
He moved for the door, hands clumsy on the latch.
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She swung the book, aiming for his head. "When did you start planning this, huh? When did the victims switch out??"
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He'd forgotten about Baby, thus how she was able to get so close. She had the element of surprise, and her screaming brought him out of the daze. With quick reflexes he intercepted the book before it could reach Pavi, grabbing tight hold of her wrist.
"Settle down, cunt!" He quickly let go of her, and shoved her aside.
Luigi was entirely focused on Pavi, grabbing his shirtfront in both hands. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He demanded with an angry yell.
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"Nothing," he said lightly. "Nothing whatsoever, brother. Nothing at all."
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What was wrong with Pavi. He'd stabbed her in the back, he'd lost his accent, and he was standing here looking defeated. Sounding like goddamn Harvey. Another one was lost. Baby was furious. She was pissed that the evening had turned out this way, on too many levels.
She sat back and watched this one play out, trying to see when and where she could interrupt. If, at all.
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Pavi wasn't the only one sounding off. Luigi was yelling and pissed off, but it wasn't quite the same as before. He sounded very close to desperate. Whoever this freak was in front of him, it wasn't Pavi. This person was not the brother Luigi knew and hated and had beaten up countless times before, even killed. That unsettled him to the point of an emotion he could not, or would not, recognize.
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He laughed again. It sounded frantic. "Maybe 'this fuckin' place' is not as useless as you thought, brother."
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