(no subject)
[Who:] Severus Snape, Mozenrath
[What:] Gratuitous violence
[When:] Just before the end of the flood
[Where:] Level 7, room 8
[Warnings:] Wizard douchebaggery ahead.
After the events of the last four days, Severus Snape was tearing himself to pieces. It wasn't merely that his mind felt as though it had been pulled in two different directions - thanks, in no small part, to his ex-warden's meddling - but also the upset caused to his life. This flood. He had never expected this to happen again.
Once, when he'd been another person, he had destroyed a poison he'd found in his room after the onset of a very similar flood, and had hidden in the library under the protection of two of the affected. When the flood ended, he had paid very dearly for that. For years. He had an unmitigated hatred of the "others" now, for what he perceived as an abandonment to his fate.
They should have left well enough alone. What right did they have to interfere?
The information Mozenrath had given him needled at him. His counterpart had made all the wrong choices and was now living what passed for a good life. He had loyalty. He had a family. Words like 'mentor' and 'hope' and 'blissful' had been thrown around. Well, he wasn't hopeful or blissful. He was in hell, and he was going to ensure Mozenrath suffered for showing him the stark contrast between his own life and his counterpart's. Hopefully, he would send the man back to his own ship with enough wounds to leave a message about hopelessness and envy.
He began with room eight; he didn't know if he would find his inmate's counterpart there, but it seemed like a good place to begin. Without knocking - never knocking, he was an inmate - he threw the door open.
[What:] Gratuitous violence
[When:] Just before the end of the flood
[Where:] Level 7, room 8
[Warnings:] Wizard douchebaggery ahead.
After the events of the last four days, Severus Snape was tearing himself to pieces. It wasn't merely that his mind felt as though it had been pulled in two different directions - thanks, in no small part, to his ex-warden's meddling - but also the upset caused to his life. This flood. He had never expected this to happen again.
Once, when he'd been another person, he had destroyed a poison he'd found in his room after the onset of a very similar flood, and had hidden in the library under the protection of two of the affected. When the flood ended, he had paid very dearly for that. For years. He had an unmitigated hatred of the "others" now, for what he perceived as an abandonment to his fate.
They should have left well enough alone. What right did they have to interfere?
The information Mozenrath had given him needled at him. His counterpart had made all the wrong choices and was now living what passed for a good life. He had loyalty. He had a family. Words like 'mentor' and 'hope' and 'blissful' had been thrown around. Well, he wasn't hopeful or blissful. He was in hell, and he was going to ensure Mozenrath suffered for showing him the stark contrast between his own life and his counterpart's. Hopefully, he would send the man back to his own ship with enough wounds to leave a message about hopelessness and envy.
He began with room eight; he didn't know if he would find his inmate's counterpart there, but it seemed like a good place to begin. Without knocking - never knocking, he was an inmate - he threw the door open.