[thread]

[pogromanate]

Who: Itachi & everyone mentioned here
Where: Uchiha estate
When: fffff June 9th, around 7pm?
Summary: It's Itachi's birthday...
Rating: R?
Other: Yosuke you idiot -- also, tag when you can etc etc

Comments

[incarnadines]

Holding his eyes-- his brother's eyes, his real eyes-- hostage. Oh, it was cold. But of course, not any colder than what Madara was pulling. It drew a laugh from him, low and acquiescing. He allowed Kazama to escape from his grasp and made no move to retrieve him. His hand drifted toward Itachi, not to reach for the eye yet but to cup his cheek, smearing the blood that seeped from his socket with an affectionate caress.

That tender moment was interrupted by Kazama. His aim was perfect. The bullets hit-- or appeared to, except that no blood poured from the holes they made, and the bullets passed straight through his head, full speed, to collide with the wall behind Madara. It was as if Madara wasn't actually there, just an illusion. The holes in his head vanished as quickly as they appeared and Madara cast a mildly irritated look at Kazama. Not for the murder attempt but for ruining the romance. Or whatever it was. It was time to say goodbye to his favorite student. He didn't want to deal with pests on top of it.

"Give them to me now, you treacherous weakling," Madara hissed, attention returning to Itachi. "I'm not interested in these children. They can't even put up a fun fight. The eyes, Itachi. You will place them in my hand this instant, unharmed, or everyone here will be slaughtered. I'm making the rules now, you see. We're playing on my terms." His hand lowered, palm open and ready.

[pogromanate]

The urge and temptation for the small circular piece of flesh that was in hand to be crushed and send ooze through the spaces of his fingers raised with each movement and word that came from Madara’s feral mouth. And when he felt the touch of palm against his bloodied face, Itachi violently flinched to avoid it, tilting his head to the side as his head the faint background sound of bullets being sped past him. Itachi closed his eyes -- empty and not -- slowly, already accepting the realization of his impending death, and playing the part of a martyr for the sake of the others in the room.

If they were not an obstacle, and if they did not appear in the first place, than surrender would have not been such a hasty option. But at this moment, it seemed to be the only one.

His good eye flickered to Kazama in hopes that he would get them out before they themselves were reduced to nothing but ignited corpses. And once Kazama had left, sweeping his way to the others that were either occupied by hiding themselves or engaging in fighting with the other Uchiha, Itachi turned his gaze back to Madara. The degrading words that slithered from his mouth and whispered to his ears seemed nothing but static, ignoring the taunts and warning as his fingers squeezed the red orb in his hand until faint threads of blood slipped from between his fingers. The pulse quickened in his disfigured socket and a low exhale left him as sharp and cold movements closed the proximity between them both.

Without looking at the open palm before him, Itachi opened his own -- it smudged with blood and the small object encased in wires of nerves. But nonetheless, his own eye still embedded in his skull was settled on Madara, lips tightened in stern indifference and that typical disapproving apathy. With fingertips, he let the eye dangle from the optical nerve before placing it in Madara’s hand lifelessly. There was no doubt in Madara’s words in slaughtering everyone if his demands were not met, the man was barbaric, and it disgusted Itachi how they were bound by blood. "-- satisfied?" He said with a cold sharp mocking edge, "No. Of course not...well, unfortunately. It's not my place to make you so, unless they leave. Or would you rather I only leave you with one of what you seek?" Even with his self-inflicted blindness, it would have only taken a split second to demolish the other eye.

[incarnadines]

No, he wasn't satisfied. However, one was better than none, and he would reach out to pluck the other from Itachi's skull himself if it wasn't given voluntarily. He raised his opposite hand, preparing, but before he could make his move, yet another one of Itachi's little friends appeared. Madara barely turned his head to look at her before her leg swiped through him. Yes, through. Fast as she was, she couldn't possibly be faster than him. The half of his body she meant to collide with vanished into thin air. A split second later, the rest of him followed.

When he reappeared, the eye that he'd been holding was gone, leaving his hands free for combat. "Darling, it's rude to interrupt," he said to her, and without a moment's hesitation he called upon a technique that Itachi would find very familiar: Amaterasu. Black flames erupted on her arm and began to consume it quickly, eating it down to the bone like no earthly flame ever could. It was a pity... Madara found her beautiful. He would have liked to take her for himself, but only in these few seconds, she was hideously disfigured.

Madara swerved back to Itachi, lips pulled back into a sneer. He thrust out his hand again, palm upward. "Give me the eye and I'll dispel the flames! Or is your pride such that you would allow your own wife to perish in agony?"

[pogromanate]

His remaining red hues flickered to the others that were still occupied in the household. In hope of them not wasting another moment in engaging with a useless fight and sought for their own safety before prolonging the deal of removing his other eye and settling it in his former-mentor’s palm. Still, his gaze returned to Madara, the fingers that were to reach up to jerk the other eye from Itachi’s socket were avoided, and yet there was another noise that caught his attention, causing Itachi to take a step back and grasp at the katana that was rested against the wall -- his hand clasped around the sheath of the blade as his eye followed the quick movements that were of his wife.

"Soifon, get out." Were his words that came in a desperate -- yet bitter -- order. Despite her own strength and elegant brutality that they both endured whilst sparring, she was not strong enough to fight against Madara. And the wisp of his invincibility was predictable. The words that Madara spoke after the flame was lit and started to engulf her arm were completely ignored and Itachi played ignorant to him (he would not risk giving him the eye for a unfulfilled promise) as Itachi, with swift speed, was beside Soifon, the blade was removed from the sheath and before long and with a graceful arc in the air, Itachi dismembered the burnt limb.

Fingers coiled around his discarded smouldering Akatsuki robe and he swiftly draped it around his wife, his other arm wrapped around her torso and his a flare of hate and disgust surged through him as his eye went back to Madara, and there was a low sound of absolute disrespect and disregard for his former mentor as the pattern in his own remaining eye swirled and he waited, a low exhale before his gaze caught those that were now exiting the estate and the walls were soon enough covered in black flame, swallowing the estate whole as his arms picked up Soifon, holding her to his chest and retreated quickly out of a broken window and away from the devouring flames.