Enjoy your therapy.

[huffpuffblonde]

[ THE MINDFUCK MEME ]
taken from memekingdom
Warning: Explicit Themes Contained

Rules:

1. Post a character! It'd sure be nice if you put their name, canon, and any prefs you might have in the subject line.
2. When other characters tag in, they'll be using ye olde RNG (1-13) to figure out just how they'll be fucking your character's mind and probably their

Comments

Don't bite more than you can chew.

[distinctive_guy]

Eliot struggled to get back on his feet but he felt like he was climbing a muddy slope while in boots with slippery soles. The ground refused to remain solid beneath him and he just couldn't get a good stand, not even with the wall by his side.

His hand reached out to grasp the smooth, featureless drywall, but before he could find purchase to pull himself up, a rough fist flew out from nowhere and knocked him back down. He fell backwards, the back of his ribs slamming down on the ground first with enough force to drive the breath from his lungs.

That was the reason, that was why his denial at Moreau's words came out in a choked gasp. "You're wrong... the team, they're not like that..." That was the reason he admitted to.

He tried to get back up, shook his head even though it shook his vision up even more. "I don't belong here. I left. I walked away!"

I'll bite as much as I want to.

[master_moreau]

Moreau laughed at that, a long, low sound of amusement, tinged with scorn. Did Eliot actually believe that? Moreau couldn't see him being quite that optimistic. When he was finished, not only would they not want him back, Eliot would realize he belonged with Moreau, to Moreau.

"Have you become that gullible? Your time away has made you soft, Eliot. As much in your instincts as it has in your mind." It was a low taunt. That he had managed to catch Eliot off guard, drug him. Put him in this position. "You know as well as I do your veins run black with the blood of a killer. You're wasting your time pretending you could be anything more or less than that. Walked away? I let you have leeway to make you realize how worthless you are without me." He crouched down, ready to block any punches Eliot got it in his head to throw. "You know it's true."

I'm keeping count of every nibble.

[distinctive_guy]

Eliot growled in response and tried lurching up, catch Moreau with an arm swipe or headbutt. He missed when his forehead sailed past where he thought Moreau was with only air as his resistance and sprawled forward again with his hair half covering his already impaired sight. His arm, however, caught on something, or more likely something caught onto it, and dragged him forward a bit.

Whatever drug Moreau shot into his system, it shot his ability of perception to hell. It also sapped him of muscle strength too, and he felt disoriented like someone stuck him to a carnival ride to spin on high speed. It was worse that he kept repeatedly shaking his head, both as a useless way to clear his vision and a token gesture of what he thought of Moreau's words.

"Not true," he bit back harshly, "'M not that man anymore." He stopped his head torture long enough to fix an unfocused glare on the man. "Did fine without you."

[master_moreau]

The denial earns him another punch, this time with the intent to lay him out on his back. Moreau shakes his wrapped fist slightly, cracking his knuckles again. It's been quite some time since he took the physical side of a dispute. Usually he let his pawns do that for him. Eliot was a special case. He got special treatment.

Moreau leaned down, fingers fisting into Eliot's shirt, dragging him to his feet. Just because the great Damien Moreau rarely stooped to these levels of violence, didn't mean he did not keep in shape. He held Eliot there, cold, calculating eyes meeting the Hitter's fierce, rebellious ones. Staring down the caged beast inside that control Eliot tried to keep. He would break him of that. Let the lion out of the cage again. His lion. His killer.

"You may fool them, but you can't fool yourself. You certainly can't fool me. All you need is the right push and you'll snap. I wonder what would happen then. What would happen if that control of yours chose to break in the middle of one of their sad little attempts at redemption." His eyes watched Eliot's closely. His eyes said what his words did not. I own you, I own you Eliot Spencer. Your life belongs to me.

"You'll never be anything more than a monster, Eliot. A killer. The sooner you stop pretending," He shoved the hitter away, into the wall behind him. "The sooner you stop playing this little game, the easier everything will be. You belong here. By my side."

[distinctive_guy]

The punch sent Eliot falling back to the floor, back skidding across its rough surface until he came to a stop. Then he was jerked up again by Moreau's hand and he tried to support himself too, scrabbling to regain his footing from under him so he could stand his own ground.

As Moreau's cutting words slashed away at Eliot, they slowly brought out the rage in him. His blue gaze dulled by drugs regained a new type of clarity in anger, and the hitter projected all that sharpness onto the man who dangled him by his shirt. At this close a distance where unfocused doubles, triples, even quadruples didn't matter because there was nothing else in his vision, Eliot directed his cerulean colored hate into meeting Moreau's contemptuous jade tones.

And then he was pushed aside, his back meeting the wall once before he rebounded off it in reawakened anger. "Never, Moreau! I'm never workin' for you again!" He took two steps forward and tried to swing in another punch. "Cause I'm gonna fuckin' kill you!" His fist swayed and missed.

[master_moreau]

Moreau knew his remarks were cutting into Eliot deeper than his punches. Those were really just to keep the Hitter from pulling together his balance. To push his buttons. To egg him on to that breaking point. He side-stepped off balance punches, pushed and pressed and twisted at every tender spot on the quickly angering man. The angrier Eliot grew, the more in control Moreau became.

"By all means, Eliot. It's in your nature to kill." He knew without a doubt, Eliot would not kill him. He could try all he liked. Without so much as batting an eye he tripped the Hitter's feet out from under him, to knock him down again, this time face forward.

"We can be monsters together again. You always did such good work for me. I have not forgotten that. Ruthless, violent, efficient." His finely polished black shoe pressed into Eliot's back as he rested his wait on it, keeping Eliot pinned long enough to lean down, his words mere cruel whispers, filled with pride. "No one could ever wipe out a family quite like you can."

Stepping back, he kept in motion, casually walking around his furious lion, every word purposely chosen, carefully selected and timed.

[distinctive_guy]

Eliot felt like he was shadow boxing while drunk- he was chasing after dark phantoms he had trouble punching. Punched, swayed, tried again. Something caught him underfoot and he fell forward. At the last moment, he caught himself with the side of an arm to break his fall but before he could roll around, there was a solid weight on his back pinning him there.

He snarled at the restriction and pushed back against the weight, but it remained, an immovable force with better leverage that pressed down on him and his anger with cruel relentlessness. The words kept coming from Moreau's voice above him. They sliced him open slash by slash and drained him of his blood in the form of energy until he felt a rawness he hadn't felt in the past half decade.

"Gonna snap your neck...!" He pushed back, harder, more frantic, "Break your spine...!" He tried to drown out the words that cut him deeper than any knife ever did with the heated ones of his own. "I'll tear your arms off and beat you with them, Moreau!"

But they weren't loud enough to drown out what he didn't want to hear, and when both Moreau and Eliot finished, Eliot was the one with his eyes squeezed shut in anguish and a raw sob being choked back in his throat.

[master_moreau]

The more enraged Eliot became, the further Moreau was going to push him. The Hitter was proving his very words with the way he responded and Moreau could see just how deep the words were hitting home. The sob tearing itself from his throat was like sweet music to his ears.

"Embrace that violent nature, Eliot. You were born to be a killer. The only thing you're useful for to anyone is the violence you are so capable and willing to inflict." He crouched down, just far enough away from the breaking man to give himself time to dodge a lunge from his lion. "That raging darkness within you that's telling you to pounce, to rip my throat open the moment I get close enough for you to reach. I know you feel it building up inside you. Embrace it, Eliot. Let the lion out of the cage."

"You are fooling yourself into thinking you'll ever fully control it."

[distinctive_guy]

Eliot wasn't trying to shout threats at Moreau now. He had moved onto denying those taunts and was fighting the drug with all he was worth. No longer held down, Eliot struggled up to his knees and glared, hating with all his worth, in the direction of the whispering devil.

"You don't know me..." he argued, the drug too strong for him to attempt another physical assault. His world spun and he knew his limbs wouldn't support him for another lunge.

But he flinched with each truth being rehashed anew and laying bare an old wound. He really was a killer... all through his life they used him for that. The army did, the criminals did... Moreau did. And Moreau never stopped, no matter how he tried deluding himself that he was free.

[master_moreau]

Moreau only purchased the best. This drug was picked out specifically with his stubborn Hitter in mind. The more furious Eliot became the faster and further the drug would be distributed through the blood stream. His voice never rose above conversational level, his movements calm and controlled. He might as well have been discussing the weather.

"Now, you know as well as I do that that's a lie." He did not even attempt to mask the taunt in his words, watching every change of expression, every shift in Eliot's movements. His words were getting through.

"Your skills aren't suited for anything else. Your hands are stained red with blood, and nothing you do will ever rid you of the instincts that run second nature through your veins. You will always be a killer, and sooner or later, everyone you touch will see the truth." He got back to his feet, circling Eliot as he spoke to finally stop in front of him, staring down at the Hitter.

"You really think your team will accept you back, now that they know the full extent of your sins? You don't belong with them."

[distinctive_guy]

"That life is over..." he tried in a last bid in denial, refusing to accept the fundamental truths that were so bitter to swallow. Worse than the bile in his throat, a whole lot worse. "They're.... My team. I... they...."

But the team doesn't know. Eliot never told them, he would if they asked but... they were afraid to ask. Moreau was right, Eliot's true nature, his capabilities, they were too much for the Leverage team.

He lowered his head, the lion accepting that he was caged.

"I don't want that life anymore! Can't stand it." Even though it's what he's good at, even when he was the best in the field.