[THREAD] and then just MURDERED him

[striginae]

Who: Genkaku, Nagi, Rokuro; also open to Johan, Alucard, Nataku
Where: The Liebert Mansion
When: January 6, 2 AM
Summary: Genkaku sent Nagi an 'invitation', and it's been accepted.
Rating: R

Comments

[hypermonk]

Shame Nagi was too late; Selphie was already ditched in a back alley of Elysium like a piece of used organic graffiti - overdosed with chemical fuck and screwed up with purple bruises - nothing but disgusting porno now. It was worth it though, Genkaku thought so, the guys had one god game of rough-house before hitting the floor with a large thump and she made a pretty good damsel-in-distress. And the monk knew that Nagi would come by and try to play the hero, such realization could only make Genkaku’s lips twitch upwards as he strummed his guitar lazily in the large hallway of the mansion

[nerveexits]

Rokuro sat completely still at the center of the stairs leading up to the second floor; he wasn't tense, sometimes it was his way. His spindly shape, dressed in a plain black assemble was hardly discernable in the light deprived environment. The illumination from the laptop at his side had been the sole source of light in the vast room. He was not a relevant figure in Genkaku's plan, nor was he a guest, like the intruder, but it was simple to predict the teacher's destination and him being present there benefited Rokuro's interest and intrigue

[striginae]

Strange, again, this situation, where it all came down to instinct and gut feeling in the end -- it scared him, to a certain extent, to have to act without thinking (too many unknowns), but what choice did he have. The rattle of his heartbeat was unnerving, and he fought to keep his breathing steady, calm -- ignoring the throbbing pulse of anger that beat against his temple. (No, no, that's what he wants, don't give it to him. Stay cold, hold everything back. Get her, get out. Anything else is too risky.)

He felt, rather than saw, the other presence in the room he entered next, and froze at the first sound of the voice -- one that he recognized all too easily. The agitation that had been welling up at the back of his throat flared up for an instant ( -- traitor -- ) and he listened in stony silence, barely able to make out the silhouette of narrow limbs and hunched figure through pale lighting of the computer. This wasn't his final destination, and still, he couldn't help the way tendrils of blood snaked through the air around him,

[hypermonk]

Yeah, yeah the monk could feel it. Nagi was letting it all loose now, no boundaries and no limitations, just pure fucking hatred and feral instincts. Genkaku liked Nagi way better that way, when thumbs would dig into eye sockets and rip limbs. It was so damn thrilling, really. The monster coming towards him was even worse then him, and freaks had to stick together, didn’t they? Genkaku just wanted to scratch that scalp right open, the pacifist wasn’t the most prettiest thing on the inside.

The voice that emitted from the other room made the monk quirk an eyebrow up. He ran a finger along his nose and gave out a playful-amused snort. He bet fifty-fifty on two conditions, maybe he smashed Rokuro’s brains out against the wall (but that wasn’t the one he was really interested in) and the latter was that Nagi just moved on, kept himself shelled-up and resistance of turning into something crazy. Why? Genkaku wanted to see the teacher evolve before his very eyes, wanted to see Nagi stop being perfect, stop being so damn falsely content.

[nerveexits]

In a coincidental moment Rokuro shifted his gaze up at the man, consequently intercepting his. A cold shiver scaled his spine, but a smile had been managed to save face. He was starting to better understand Genkaku's objective, however he did not see how it could bare fruit; he did not know Nagi's capacity for brutality outside what he had seen first hand.

Being a sceptic, Rokuro required to confirm the myth with his eyes. He flipped shut the laptop and rose to his feet, silently stepping down. He pursued his old leader through the darkness, comprehending that he had compromised his own zone of safety by departing from the steps, more specifically the tricks he installed around them, but the forthcoming smelled better than he had anticipated. He did not wish to observe through hacked security cameras anymore - Rokuro wanted a front row seat.

[striginae]

The narrow tendril of smoke that twisted through the air, the gleam of too-bright eyes and the sharp smile, the familiar ring of vicious-sharp works -- Nagi felt something terribly painful twist through his chest, like a knife through his ribs. (Something buckled, came a half-inch closer to breaking.) And he couldn't help but freeze in the doorway, limbs locked and eyes narrowed into a cold stare, one that reeked of unbridled hatred of the purest sort.

"You know why I'm here." Words laid flat, tinged with ice -- Nagi took a half-step forward, forcing himself to still the faintest tremor in his limbs (out of anger, out of fear, it was hard to tell) and biting back the bitter aftertaste of hatred at the back of his throat. The orbs of blood continued to circle him, streaking brilliant red through the darkness -- acting out a useless barrier that would serve no purpose. (No, Nagi knew all to well that his ability was nigh-useless here. Which was why the cold weight of a revolver pressed against his belt, hidden under the folds of his

[hypermonk]

The monk took a few moments to gaze along the embodied shadow. Damn, he looked like a wreck, and at that realization the monk ran a hand through a few stray red threads and tucked them behind his ear to let out a dark chuckle. "You look like pretty good." He said absently and stood up from the leather couch to fold his arms against his chest languidly. Eyes once again gazed long Nagi, his lips twisted into a smirk

[nerveexits]

An abashed crack of Rokuro's neck replied from the darkness if a quality could be attached to the gesture. Fuck, everyone was too observant, he thought amid interchanging inspective looks between his superior and the faux counterpart. "I thought... I might be of use," Rokuro unenthusiastically tried to justify his trespass. He had stopped short a meter from the crimson encircling the teacher and moved about him an cautious arc, however he didn't shy from drawing an arrogant smile as he passed Nagi.

The teacher's aura of animosity was palpable but he didn't enjoy the prospect of loitering around Genkaku in the current situation anymore; he had a general idea of Nagi's psychology and tactics, but not of the monk's. Fucking assholes - he glanced hatefully into the redhead's back and meandered away several steps - 'here' being a location subject to interpretation. "...He's probably got a handgun..."

[striginae]

The urge to flee, the urge to fight -- the two clashed and swirled in his chest, and he felt his heart beat ever faster, almost about to explode, exacerbated by the long stare, the twisted smile, the way drawled words tore through the air and into his head -- forming spiderweb cracks on a surface he couldn't see. (Feeling like he was going to break.) The step Genkaku took forward was answered with a step back from Nagi, and he stood with limbs tensed and shoulders shaking with every ragged breath, feeling phantom pains tear through the nerves of his half-healed amputation. Something hidden, something guarded in the back of his mind screamed at him silently, (-- kill him, attack, no inhibitions, lunge forward, you're more deadly than you know, kil him, kill him, kill him like he killed her --), but he swallowed it back, instead watching as Rokuro passed by, lips curved in a smile that he very much wanted and wanted not to tear to pieces

[hypermonk]

Genkaku’s vision followed Rokuro until the younger stopped behind the monk. His expression was oddly unsatisfied to be the one in front of Rokuro and instead of looking at his actually target and paying attention to Nagi, Genkaku got distracted and reached over to grab the back of Rokuro’s skull roughly and shoved him forward beside the monk. "Yeah, you’ll be pretty useful." Genkaku’s words rolled out of his tongue in a rather vicious way, ordering the kid that was beside him before looking back over at his target. The sight of the cripple was hilarious enough that a string of harsh raspy laughter left his mouth

[nerveexits]

The lean fingers encapsulated his skull and he relinquished a small croak. Rokuro didn't fight the direction he was flung, but after he had gained his ground the floor squeaked painfully under Rokuro's shoe; his frame abruptly swivelled half-way, blackened eyes staring a hole in the monk's face. The look was sharp but completely inscrutable in its emotional quality; one couldn't discern if Rokuro was hateful or alert.

His attention's returned to Nagi, and more importantly the frigid object in his possession. The likelihood of the teacher opening fire on him floated in the range of 5 to 1 percent, a significant number to the traitor. Though Rokuro anticipated the front row and not the stage he refrained from movement that would incite repercussions. A low murmur: "Genkaku you bastard......"

[striginae]

He came close, dangerously close -- almost lost the fragile control he was barely maintaining over the rage coursing through his veins. It was some combination of the languid motions, the sneering laughs, the sharp grin that nearly drove him over the edge, and his finger wavered on the trigger of the revolver. (Nearly made him consciously attempt to commit murder, right then and there.) It was growing increasingly difficult to hold his aim steady, and it flickered for a moment from Genkaku to Rokuro to back again, as Nagi tried, tried to keep his breathing from deteriorating into harsh near-pants that felt like they barely filled his lungs.

"You're lying." It was stuck between a plea and a command -- praying, demanding that the careless words were falsehoods. (I cannot have been the cause of another death. Not like her, I won't allow it, I can't allow another person to die because I failed. I won't let this be a repeat, I can't, I can't --) "You're lying, I don't know what you're talking about." Words rendered in synthetic tones

[hypermonk]

Thin lips coiled as he gave out a amused snort at Rokuro’s statement. Yeah, Genkaku was a bastard, so what? Violets gazed at the silver object once again in Nagi’s hand and his lips could only twitch upwards at the hesitation, the monk’s stance was fully open to take the shot; so why the hell didn’t Nagi shoot? That which held the other back was pissing Genkaku off and he felt that Nagi may have just needed a little nudge, and so he grabbed his own weapon that leaned against the couch and with one flick of a switch it divided into two machine gun. A strong grip wrapped around one of said pieces and he pointed it at Nagi with playful murderous intentions

[nerveexits]

Rokuro braced himself to exploit an opening between the two and take it, no good getting punctured with bullets from both sides now. A familiar din of weaponry struck his eardrum; Genkaku drawn. It seemed the option to observe from the sidelines had been purged and being the logical individual he was Rokuro opted for the next alternative, the one he was inclined to reserve solely for certain victories: he liberate his true self. No strategy in it - plain satisfaction.

"Keh," a single note of laugher crackled from his throat. The kid's jaws merrily parted, "Do ya have any idea I had pointed at me in my life? Do you? But just for this! I'll dig up the whore's corpse Genkaku did in and take a shit down her neck!! Put the fucking gun down retard you're out-matched!!" Rokuro flitted behind the monk's firearm and held on below the barrel. "H-hey, what are you waiting for? Blow this robot to pieces!"

[striginae]

Maybe, he could have prevented this. Maybe, just maybe, if he hadn't let the flickers of suppressed memories occupy his thoughts, he could have moved away in time, out of the path of Genkaku's double gatling guns. It would have been possible, perhaps -- but the fact of the matter was that Nagi couldn't, not this time. The harsh jolt of pain through his temples slowed his reactions, and by the time he realized he was staring down the barrel of the firearm, the gunshot had already gone off.

Instantly, a blossom of pain exploded in his leg, heralding a splatter of blood -- the bullet tearing through flesh just below where he'd previously been shot. Shards of glass shot through his veins, and he gasped, all the breath driven out of his lungs as he staggered back -- Rokuro's words ringing in his ears.

And when he focused his gaze on the past traitor, for a moment the shadow of true insanity flickered across his features, pale eyes alight with unbridled anger (-- I'll kill you, I'll tear you to pieces, don't dare speak of her like that,

[hypermonk]

The shatter of his guitar made the monk’s features grace total shock and unbelief for several moments. Ricochet from the instrument fell onto the ground and shot back into his anatomy (but leaving nothing but small smudges) violets slid along the side of his eye sockets to look at the mess on the floor and let out a sound of immense irritation, shooting Rokuro a look. "Damn...shut it kid, you’re gonna start pissing me off." And he swiftly moved with sluggish movements, feral almost in acts, prowling and violent. He picked up the second half of the machine gun and let his teeth clamp onto his bottom lip