[doesn't awaken with a jolt, but he does freeze when he realize something is very very wrong with his location. He looks around slowly, trying to be discrete about being awake, but his heart rate and breathing speed up with fear]
[slowly sits up, scooting back on the... bedding... as much as he can manage as he tries to see who's talking, or hear something beyond his voice, they may not be at the level of an actual werewolf's but he does have enhanced senses]
Wh-what do you want? [curses, again, the shake of his voice]
[Damian's booted feet fall rather loudly on the stone-tile floor as he approaches, probably making it rather difficult to hear anything but that and his voice.]
[Damian smiles slowly. There's a distinct shift, perhaps in the light? and it seems like the shadows in the room are deepening. At the same time, the blue of Damian's eyes seems to get... brighter, stronger. Almost glowing. The sort of thing one has to fight to look away from.]
[This time, when he speaks, Tim will feel a distinct push. The command is thready but insistent, and definitely there, feeling almost like it is winding through the crevices of his brain: answer me, answer truthfully.]
[Bruce spent years breaking down Tim's walls, making him vulnerable to mind control and suggestion, it's barely a fight to force him to do something as simple as speak]
Your pack would have no right to declare war if he died, no matter what your honorless, lying Alpha would have me believe.
[Damian snarls, wanting Tim to see his anger,] Your Alpha manipulated me into violating Clan law! A child of my Clan spilled blood for a rogue in your territory, when she was fully in her rights to kill him if she chose! Your pack's protection does not extend to whatever cringing little mutt wanders into its territory!
[The push gets stronger.] Your Alpha had no right to demand Stephanie's punishment, or her unlife in lieu of the same!
[Damian closes his eyes and laughs. When he opens them again, he is no longer pushing to thrall Tim, and looks normal to Tim's eyes.]
But Timothy... [his mean and nasty smirk belies the put-upon innocence of his tone,] They don't know where you are or what's happened to you. All they know is that you've vanished. They must be so worried.
[His tone changes again, to a colder one,] You already are making them suffer, Timothy.
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Good evening, Timothy. [Damian speaks up from across the room, then walks slowly across the room. Whoever he was speaking to, Tim can't see.]
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Wh-what do you want? [curses, again, the shake of his voice]
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Your Pack... are liars.
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What are you talking about? [clenches his hands into fists, speaking a bit slowly so that his voice doesn't shake again]
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Name your Pack. Every member claimed by your Alpha.
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G-go to hell.
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[This time, when he speaks, Tim will feel a distinct push. The command is thready but insistent, and definitely there, feeling almost like it is winding through the crevices of his brain: answer me, answer truthfully.]
The werewolf Conner. Is he part of your Pack?
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No, not in any official manner, he isn't.
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[Damian snarls, wanting Tim to see his anger,] Your Alpha manipulated me into violating Clan law! A child of my Clan spilled blood for a rogue in your territory, when she was fully in her rights to kill him if she chose! Your pack's protection does not extend to whatever cringing little mutt wanders into its territory!
[The push gets stronger.] Your Alpha had no right to demand Stephanie's punishment, or her unlife in lieu of the same!
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The p-pack can protect whoever... [shudders and tries to stagger back]
What do you want? I-I d-don't...
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I want them to suffer. I want them to make the streets run red with blood. And I want them to die.
[Damian steps closer, hands against the bars now.] And you, Timothy, are going to help me do that.
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N-no. No I won't. I-I w-won't. [shakes his head and flattens himself back against the cage] N-no.
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But Timothy... [his mean and nasty smirk belies the put-upon innocence of his tone,] They don't know where you are or what's happened to you. All they know is that you've vanished. They must be so worried.
[His tone changes again, to a colder one,] You already are making them suffer, Timothy.
...But... isn't that what you do best?
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N-no more. I w-won't... hurt them any more...
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