[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

[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, I'll kill you, your insides will decorate the floor --). The sharp whipcrack of a gunshot, as he pulled the trigger to the revolver, aimed at the guitar-gun -- a quick one-two shot as he fell to his knees, blood starting to pool on the floor beneath him.

[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.

Genkaku nudged Rokuro back firmly and took aim. Instead of actually giving a fuck where he shot, the monk let out a full-blown stray of bullets, "Heh, this the kinda gig you want, Owl?" He murmured, words that were drowned out by the bullets that hit almost everything but vital organs. Shells clattered the gound and if anyone woke up because of this riot then good for them, Genkaku wasn’t going to let Nagi escape the time.

Smoke rose from the instrument and the monk inhaled deeply, he looked at his obsession with a humor-filled snort and chuckle before turning back to Rokuro, "Hey, take him to where his girlfriend was before I tossed her in a ditch." Then a jerk of his head towards Nagi, "This concert isn’t over yet."

[soulparadox]

What was that? It was the obligatory response to hearing the first gunshots ring through the manor. That would be something that people in the house would not be calm about -- at least to his knowledge. If such an event would happen in his old home, his grandfather would be quite upset about it. The reason for why was lost on Nataku, if he were honest. Those people were going to try to kill them regardless if they were calm or not. But at least, being not calm, would show that they were not wanted.

Running through the hallways, he hurried to where all the shooting was coming from. The door to the room was closed which he could tell as he headed towards it -- there was a moment when he thought of swinging his ribbon at the wooden doors, but if he created an unwanted mess regardless if he was trying to save the family, that would be unacceptable. Coming to an abrupt halt, he opened the door before starting to pull his arm back to swing his weapon at the intruders only ...

"Genkaku." The ribbon dropped to his side, lying dead at his feet. "I thought there was something I should be concerned about." It seemed as though he was entertaining guests and was about to excuse himself before he noticed the body on the floor. Gesturing to the individual, he asked. "Is that person dead?"

[nerveexits]

His skull rotated, a wry expression painting his face in light of Genkaku's request "Eeeeh? Why the hell would we wanna do that? No..." Rokuro carelessly relinquished the laptop under his arm as the plastic casing shattered upon impact with the floor. It may have been the discomfort of being torn from his safety zone or simply the scent of blood but Rokuro was not at all subordinate or instrumental.

"I'll rend him apart for fucking with my work - right now," his voice hissed throughout the dark interior. His nails dug into his hand, crudely mutilating the flesh into strips. An ugly, medieval-esque knife formalized from the liquid and into his twitching grip as Rokuro giddily paced to the victim of this game. He was unaware of the third voice, or any for that matter as he crouched before Nagi and aimed the crimson instrument at his face. Surely if Hummingbird could see the spectacle now she would be impressed, he observed in the recesses of his distraught mentality.

[striginae]

It always seemed he was a moment too slow, a split-second too late to save himself -- to turn the tables. Because the revolver had been lifted once more, reaimed in a shaking hand at Genkaku's torso (-- I need to kill him --) and it had only been a matter of which side's firearms went off first. (He never won these races.) The revolver went clattering to the floor, slip-sliding in a puddle of blood, as Nagi collapsed, gasping for breath -- feeling like he was being torn apart. (No, it's not that merciless. This won't kill me, not immediately. Bleed slowly, trickle by drop.) The pain was immense, unthinkable, shards of glass and battery acid ravaging his veins. (No, I can't die, not here, not yet, not to him --)

He was barely aware of the newcomer to the room, really, barely aware of anything at this point, trying to force his shattered limbs to move, trying to force himself back up, regardless of the way his vision wavered and doubled -- and then he was aware of the narrow figure drawing closer. (Don't come near me.) His vision had deteriorated into a mosaic of blurs and colors, everything flooding together, but even so, he could make out the outlines of the blade being formed -- no doubt intended for him.

It was instinct, more than anything, the pure and untainted will to live, that caused his own blood to peel off the floor in flickers of bright red -- swirling through the air and forming the familiar orbs in half an instant. "Don't touch me." It could hardly be called a warning, with the way there was no pause between words and action, pale eyes alight with a cold, cold violence -- before the blade could sink in, the spheres had already shot through the air, aimed for Rokuro's chest.

[hypermonk]

The red-head turned to the new company that entered the room and only gave Nataku a half-grin, not bothering to answer his inquiry because Rokuro was messing with Owl. And really? That just pissed the monk the fuck off. Large boots echoed as he made his way to the body on the floor, and he looked at the dumbfuck of the kid. A bead of blood that left Nagi didn’t make Genkaku flinch, however, the monk almost wanted to see Rokuro’s chest explode. Pretty good punishment for messing with the monk’s belongings.

"Rokuro." He murmured almost hatefully, Genkaku would never call Rokuro his real name unless the kid pissed him off. Violets looking down at the blood-formed knife that lodged out of his palm, and then a deep chuckle left his mouth. "Heh...fuckin' idiot, you’re no match for my Owl." The monk murmured and a wrist went up to his mouth and he ripped the string that held a dozen prayer beads. Said beads fell upon the blood-formed orb and he watched it dissolve, soon afterwards, the monk swung his guitar-like machine gun against his shoulder and gave Rokuro an effortless violet blow to the side of his head. "You gotta learn when to back off. You wouldn't wanna piss off Shiva, would'ya?"

The monk turned back to Nataku and Genkaku jerked his head towards Nagi in a gesture to summon the platinum-haired boy to him. "Hey there, you wanna help me get this lazy bastard to the play room?" He said with a smirk.

[soulparadox]

"Oh. He is alive." It seemed like Nataku did not need someone to tell him this as he heard the other's voice -- or lack there of -- and it seemed had enough life left in him to use whatever ability that was. Not the most descriptive way to explain what had just happened, but he had not seen anything like that before. There was a brief moment when he wanted to ask both Genkaku and the other two in the room what sort of attack was just used.

It did not matter that the other guest would have almost been killed, or at least injured in some way, because the person in the hat had told him that if an individual had the means to kill someone, they should act on it. Those that could not defend themselves were not worthy to live. Was that not correct? However, he was not able to muse on this for too long before he was addressed in the conversation. Looking away from the injured man to the monk and back -- understanding the gesture given to him, he tilted his head slightly in question before deciding that he should not ask.

"Understood." Walking over to the 'lazy bastard', Nataku decided to introduce himself as his ribbon snapped out to wrap around the other's body -- while he could have probably let the man rest on his shoulder as they walked to the room in question, it seemed like the individual was a little tired for various reasons and it would just be easier to carry him with his ribbon instead. "I am Nataku. If you would be so kind as to follow me. However, you do not have much of a choice in the matter." A brief pause. "I apologize."

[nerveexits]

The sleep deprived oculars shined with a feverish brightness as Rokuro willfully pressed the blade down. The subsequent events occurred in the matter of seconds but his mind was clear on one thing: he loathed Nagi. His typical sense of self preservation had deteriorated to zero and his only intention lay in murder. The dubious value of the teacher's existence had infuriated him - the man seemed on the verge of defeat already, certainly Genkaku understood.

His wrist twisted on the edge of performing the fatal slashing motion when the levitating liquid grazed his peripheral vision then vanished. What transpired afterwards was partly lost on the hacker; his skull felt submerged beneath the ocean, far from the surface. The voices grew nauseating and muffled, but he could see, if just vaguely. Rokuro saw his hand, the thin anatomy sprawled motionlessly on the floor. His eyes shifted to where Nagi had restored - they were lifting the fool up, but they were not lifting him. He wished to protest and blame, but could not prevail against his slipping consciousness. "......"

[striginae]

Ravaged by pain and tainted by the sluggish nausea of blood-loss, Nagi's consciousness was fading rapidly -- and yet, he clung to it with a fierce determination, staving off the spots of black eating away at his vision only through sheer desperation. What exactly had happened was lost to him -- all he knew was that the immediate threat Rokuro presented had been nullified. But even amidst these events, he didn't miss the drawled words, tinged with the smug laugh. (No. No, I refuse --) "I'm not yours." Words spat out in between rasping breaths, thick with bitter hatred, a loathing that was almost tangible even through synthetic tones. "I don't belong to you."

It was a weak defense, of course, and even he knew this -- but still, this was something he could not let go. (Not you. Never to you. I'll die before letting myself become anything associated with you.)

Then the next moment, he was aware of the ribbon curling around his limbs, sending jolts of pain shooting through his body -- choking back a voice, he concentrated instead on the words, grasping at something to keep himself grounded in reality. (Nataku. A name he'd heard before. Where? He knew it, but who --) "-- let go of me." Perhaps it was the slow bleeding that was eating away at him, but his words had fallen in volume -- somewhere between a whispered demand and a plea. Struggling instinctively against the ribbon, even knowing (equally instinctively) that it was useless -- a hollow, exhausted gaze passing over the boy and Rokuro before turning a cold glare to Genkaku. "I --" Breathe in, breathe out, feeling the air burn inside his chest with each shallow gasp. "I refuse -- to play along with your games."

[hypermonk]

The monk’s mouth parted and a deep dark laughter emerged when the bloodied half-corpse spoke his protests. It was fucking cute, the way Nagi would try and pull away and shit, hell, the fact that Nagi even had a gun was hilarious in itself. When Nataku walked past, Genkaku just gave out a wide grin and turned on his heel to go to where he had directed Nataku to take Nagi.

"Oh yeah, when you’re done with Owl." He muttered deeply and looked over his shoulder to observe the other that passed out. An irritated groan left his mouth and he drew out his arm to point at Rokuro. "Tch...take that one too. Just dump him somewhere in a spare room. Wouldn’t want the boss to trip over and break his hip ya’know."

Fingers reached into his pant pockets and he drew out another cigar, placed it between his lips and lit it. He idly kicked the ruined guitar by the couch and inhaled deeply before making his way to where he was going before.

[soulparadox]

When Nataku heard 'Owl' to be let go, he stopped walking. If this person was a gust in their house, was it not his job to make sure that they were treated kindly? He was trying to do the same for Nina, for however much that was worth. The ribbon wrapped around the injured person's body loosened slightly; they held him very much like one would carry an injured person, under the arms and legs, and a good distance away from Nataku's own body so that blood did not get on him. But now that they loosened, 'Owl' was hanging a little closer to the floor like he was to be dropped.

It seemed like his weapon was just as troubled by the request as he was, and so it was time to ask an outside source -- the one who originally ordered him to do this task. He paused to look back at Genkaku. "Am I to let him go?"

"Oh, that one?" That had been something that he was curious about. He wondered what was to happen with the other guest that was now injured. However, Nataku felt a little concerned about the fact that Johan could hurt himself in such a situation. Perhaps, he should not have stopped to ask if he should agree with 'Owl's request and just done as he was told first. Then, there would be less of a chance for an accident to happen. Still, Genkaku seemed to like this person and Nataku would not want to do something against the person that was liked by the monk. "Understood. I will do that as soon as the fate of this one is decided."

[striginae]

Strange, how everything seemed so muted, dulled -- words coming past a wall of plaster, images starting to fade and blur. Nagi was vaguely aware -- past the pulsing waves of pain that resonated through his nervers -- of the way the ribbon coiled beneath his limbs. Not a violent gesture. And the way this boy spoke, too -- naive. (But it was growing harder and harder to process these thoughts. Blood loss, he thought. And shock, probably. It wouldn't be long before he lost consciousness, at this rate, no matter how hard he tried.)

Head falling weakly to the side, he listened closely, focusing intensely on each word -- it took him that effort to understand what was going on, and even more to force rasping breath into spoken words -- halting and stuttered even with his synthetic voice. "-- the senator -- how have you kept this -- from him?" A hard swallow, and Nagi forced back the twinge of anemia-induced nausea that curled thick and bitter at the back of his throat.

"You can't -- continue this." Another struggle against the ribbon holding him, but progressively weaker, barely substantial now. "Let me go."

[hypermonk]

Why the fuck was it so hard for Nataku to understand? Jeez, what a goddamn pain. It was starting to piss the monk off and he turned back to Nataku with frustration marking his features, though he let out a somewhat playfully mocking laughter and exhaled the toxic smoke.

"Listen bro'" He murmured half-assed, "Alright...listen to me." Genkaku started to talk slowly now as though Nataku was a student and Genkaku was a teacher for the class of special retards. "You take him, alright?" A gesture directed to Nagi. "Take him to the damn room where I fucked around with his girlfriend. Come back." Each word drawn out over a raspy voice. "Grab this shithead--" He pointed the occupied hand to Rokuro, "Take him to a spare room or some shit."

The monk ran a hand through his hair and then walked up to Nataku, a half-grin turned his lips upwards and he gave Nataku a rough pat on the head. "Yeah, don’t listen to what he says." A headtilt to Nagi. "So...go on bro, it isn’t a hard thing to do."

[soulparadox]

With each gesture that Genkaku made, Nataku followed it with his eyes -- nodding shortly after each order. Though, he was not sure if the monk saw each note of compliance. Still, he could have probably done without the pat on the head. It had made him flinch, more so what he considered the sudden movement into his personal space than anything else. Regardless, these orders were a lot easier to follow through with. Already, the ribbon was wrapping tighter around Owl. It was not meant to hurt the man, since it seemed like he had enough injures to deal with, but to create proper support for him as Nataku hurried to the area ordered to him.

It was not that long of a trek, though, he had to be a little careful as to not jostle the injured person too much before they arrived. Such an odd room, but he had other orders and could not dally long in wondering about it. Still, he thought that he should say something of encouragement to Owl as it appeared that he was having a difficult time with his injuries -- unlike his little sister. "It would be best not to die. Genkaku would be unable to play with you if you do so. Do not be a sore loser, if you please."

Having said that, he quickly returned to Genkaku's side to pick up 'this shithead.' This person appeared to be lighter than Owl and so it was not so much trouble for Nataku to pick him up. The only trouble came when the head injury stained his shoulder, but he most likely would not be allowed to complain about that. As before, he looked for any room to put this individual in -- as he doubted that the monk meant to actually throw the person into the latrine.

Upon finding a suitable room, he set the injured party onto the bed. Like before with Nagi, he fretted about leaving him like this. Tearing off a small portion of his ribbon, he wrapped it around the other's head in a haphazard manner. "If you are here, Papa will not trip over you. Stay here until you are no longer a burden, please."

Finally finished with his orders, he returned once more to Genkaku to alert him of their completion. Halting in front of the monk, he remembered the salute that Schrodinger had taught him and properly saluted. "Heil." A pause before he returned to his original stance. "It has been finished. Is there anything else that you need me to do so that Johan is happy?" Yes, he considered this all related to the Senator's happiness somehow, because that is what a bodyguard was supposed to do, correct? Make life easier for him?