A contract for a contract.

[ferventknight]

Who: ferventknight and inkyubeytor
When: June 1st, in the evening.
Where: Phancyhive Manor, Elliot Nightray's room.
Summary: Kyubey has come to bother Elliot once more about a contract and the Chain he supposedly has.
Warnings: Blood, Elliot's loud mouth, horrible flash backs, and delicious contracts.

Comments

[inkyubeytor]

Siren's Port had proven to be quite the interesting city. The setting was like any other city in most ways and in that sense, it was actually rather boring. What made it so unique were the individuals who were drawn to the city by 'The Core' and the abilities they possessed

[ferventknight]

Hearing those small familiar foot steps, he gave a sigh. Maybe it wasn't what he thought it was.. But low and behold, that voice was the one thing that made him sure of who had come to bother him. Elliot didn't answer right away. He thought if he ignored him long enough, Kyubey would go bother someone else.

Of course, that didn't seem to happen. Lewis didn't seem to like the unexpected company either. Having slithered over Elliot's waist, the white rattlesnake caught sight of Kyubey before it's tail began to shake furiously. That seemed to be the only thing that caused Elliot to open his eyes and raise his head to stare at the red beady orbs before speaking in a tone lathered with annoyance.

"I told you before. No."

[inkyubeytor]

The snake does little to deter Kyubey. If anything, he turns to stare at it for a moment in silence - 'I need to talk to your master. It's very important. He's in danger.' - is the message delivered before Kyubey takes the chance to bound closer to Elliot.

"I thought you might've changed your mind, considering the circumstances." It's not hard to read the mental states of those in the household - Gilbert Nightray's brothers were in trouble and as such, it was the perfect opportunity to offer a solution.

"You don't have to be bound by a Chain, Elliot, if you don't want to be."

[ferventknight]

Lewis slowly calmed down, staring from Kyubey to Elliot and then once again back to Kyubey... Giving what seemed like an annoyed look of his tongue, the pale snake slithered to the top of the bed before curling up once more. With that, Elliot had glanced from Lewis to Kyubey before sitting up with an annoyed groan.

Again with this Chain business; this was becoming utter nonsense. He was about to snap and throw this damn.. cat looking thing against the wall if he wasn't careful.

"Listen! We've been over this how many times?!" More times than Elliot could ever count. "I don't have a Chain! Gilbert has a Chain! Vincent has a Chain! Go bother them you idiot!"

blood. blood everywhere

[ferventknight]

[It had finally been done.

Humpty Dumpty was gone, and the only burden he carried was the ultimate burden. The memory of killing his family. But he couldn't help but smile, that monster couldn't hurt him any further. Even now when he had been kneeling in his own blood, even if those images from earlier came rushing into his mind.

It didn't matter, did it? You shouldn't dwell on things that happened back at home. Not while we're here. Gilbert told him that, didn't he? Yes, he remembered. Those words always rang through his mind painfully. It was the truth, but a single thread continued to pull on Elliot.

The memory of the head hunter that had been killing his family. It had been snipped; he can live here now. Right?

No, no.. He couldn't. He did it, he killed his sister.. His brothers. But still a smile.

The killer within him had vanished into this soul gem.

Gripping onto the blood soaked carpet, he let out a pathetic laugh before shaking his head.

He felt pathetic. The one thing he swore to stop had been himself this whole

oh god mah luver

[snakeofaguy]

[Despite being elsewhere in the house, there is no escaping this smell-

Blood.

A lot of it.

Not Claude's, not Ciel's, not Joker's or Beast's or... oh right. They're gone, they're not here.

And yet the smell is there, a personal twinge in the coppery stench that he doesn't recognize- doesn't wish to recognize. To recognize it would mean someone in the house is harmed.

The wind is rushing past his ears as he bounds up the steps two at a time, up to the second floor before he can even realize his legs are moving. In the ascent, the most horrible whispers resound in his ears from all the little hissing sentries set around the house.

Elliot.It makes his legs move through strain and pain until his chest burns and his eyes are burning just as terribly. Blindingly on both accounts. He can't breathe, but he doesn't need to, he can't see, but there's no use for that either. He cannot stop and he cannot stray

he needs love

[ferventknight]

[That voice. It was--

Snake?

Glancing up, he saw him there.. Kneeling in front of him. How did he know to come? How did Snake know he was in trouble..? Right.. He probably smelled all this blood. Tch... Part of Elliot hated that much; Snake now saw him in a state no one should have ever witnessed. He was weak.

Completely weak. It was pathetic, feeble, heartrending.

No one should ever see him this way. What happened to honor? His honor.. that didn't exist right now; not after what he witnessed with his own mind.

He wanted to speak, to scream. To tell Snake to get out of his face.

Leave me alone!

He couldn't speak those words. He couldn't scream in such a manner to him, especially not with his sanity in a fragile place. But instead of saying anything reasonable, Elliot gave a weak laugh before speaking.]

Pretty sad, right..? The stench is probably horrible.

he will bloody well get it

[snakeofaguy]

[There's no judgement from the young man, not a flicker of pity or distain. Only concern. Concern strong enough to push down the need to escape the overwhelming scent burning into his nose. Singeing the underside of his eyes with stinging pain, water distorting his vision as he blinks frantically. There are no tears; these are not tears. Never was there a time that Snake can remember himself crying. There isn't a hiccup in his chest, in his breathing, in his voice and muscles, there's no other indication of a sob but the way his face contorts in discomfort.

Weak, pathetic, feeble, heartrending, dishonorable, no- no none of these things. Elliot is none of these things even now. Now, he is just hurt.

His hands find themselves tucked beneath Elliot's lapels, feeling, prodding, trying to find a wound, a source. His body moves to pull the smaller form close, to give support as he inspects with a barely restrained desperation. His mind disregards the scoff from the blonde in favor of questioning:]

What happened? Who hurt you?