[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.