[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

[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

[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 himHe 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

[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

[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

[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

[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

[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

[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

[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