[Do it again and he'll bite that finger. Lobelia's staring daggers, but there's a desperation behind them. Something silent he can't voice.]
Oh, but it will. I owe it handsomely for all the times I've eluded and mocked it. Do you know how many deaths I've savored, Hansa? How many times I stood on the edge only to taunt the devil with my soul?
[hansa voice i would rather be in my honda accord right now scrolling tumblr than listening to this]
I'm not afraid. I'm not worried about saving myself. Not anymore. It's the rest of you who ought to be concerned.
[Easy. Kill him. In the interim, Lobelia welcomes the dark Hansa's hand invites, quieted by it, but it doesn't stop the reflexive snickering.]
I've lived my entire life of my own accord. Autonomie, liberté... If I wanted to drift from place to place all on my own, I could. If I wanted to take a life, I would without remorse for the sake of my own joy.
[These should be unpleasant things to hear. Things that prove he ought to die to give the rest of the world a chance to live.]
...I can stand nothing more than losing control. I simply can't allow it. Neither should you.
[These are unpleasant things. Lobelia is a sinner like no tomorrow. A murderer. Someone who deserves the strictest, cruelest punishment. He admits as such.]
[And yet....]
[And yet.]
What do you feel like you lost control over? [Quietly, gently, even as his thumb cups the side of Lobelia's face. He doesn't uncover his eyes, just yet.] Was it because of that? Because of him?
[Of course. It's the kind of revelation that would shake anyone off the path. Lobelia's shoulders are shaking with the urge to laugh again. Horrible, helpless shivers.]
Not so fast.
[There's a knot forming in his throat. Agonizing, pointless feelings.]
I can't have you spreading around any baseless rumors, can I...? That would be problématique— both for you and me. I'll need some assurance that you won't send a mob my way, torches ablaze.
[And then, both his hands move - gently, so gently, but strong all the same, as he grasps the man by the shoulders. He pulls him up to himself, almost onto his lap, and encircles him with his arms.]
[An embrace.]
[He holds him close, and just...does so. Without saying a word.]
[Again, he forgets who Hansa is. Lobelia tenses in anticipation of pain, prepares for the earful, but none of it comes. Hansa's arms are warm around him and Lobelia thaws beneath them. How effortlessly he cares.
There's trepidation, and then Lobelia's hands find Hansa's back.]
[Lobelia doesn't have the energy to do anything but slump against Hansa, selfishly entrusting his weight to his arms. It's been a long week. Too many sleepless nights to stave off the nightmares.]
...Oui, and neither are the rest of you. Should you be so close to me? It will mark you too. Tarnish you.
[Even Hansa will break with enough force, won't he?]
[Funny. It should be his own heart going through its paces, but he feels strangely calm. By now, Lobelia's accepted that feeling off is his new norm.]
I had a suspicion something was wrong beginning with last week... but it's self-evident now. For all we know, the incubation period could be much longer.
[Symptoms, symptoms... Lobelia hums, cheek lolled against Hansa's shoulder.]
See... I haven't been losing sleep on purpose. The nightmares are novel. They blend the unconscious with the conscious a little too easily. The fever comes and goes.
[It's not unlike what's happening to the others when they linger too long in the sun minus the fever.]
[Any regular person would have nightmares here. But this is a step up. A sinking of teeth...wait, didn't Lobelia say as such. He should have felt it then.]
[His hand comes up, petting lightly over the other's head.]
[More than haunted by the recollection of those nightmares, they anger Lobelia. The lack of control, the way they linger in his mind unbidden? Whatever the cause, he can't forgive it. Whatever caused this, he'll break it.]
The ground giving beneath people's feet. Hell swallowing them whole. It's others who die in my nightmares. People like you.
[People who have no business burning for an eternity.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Oh, but it will. I owe it handsomely for all the times I've eluded and mocked it. Do you know how many deaths I've savored, Hansa? How many times I stood on the edge only to taunt the devil with my soul?
[hansa voice i would rather be in my honda accord right now scrolling tumblr than listening to this]
I'm not afraid. I'm not worried about saving myself. Not anymore. It's the rest of you who ought to be concerned.
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[His voice is a little exhausted. Lobelia, Lobelia. What will he do with you?]
Not anymore, huh? And why all of this all of a sudden?
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I've lived my entire life of my own accord. Autonomie, liberté... If I wanted to drift from place to place all on my own, I could. If I wanted to take a life, I would without remorse for the sake of my own joy.
[These should be unpleasant things to hear. Things that prove he ought to die to give the rest of the world a chance to live.]
...I can stand nothing more than losing control. I simply can't allow it. Neither should you.
no subject
[And yet....]
[And yet.]
What do you feel like you lost control over? [Quietly, gently, even as his thumb cups the side of Lobelia's face. He doesn't uncover his eyes, just yet.] Was it because of that? Because of him?
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[It's better this way. Lobelia doesn't know if he can stand to say this while looking Hansa in the eye.]
This place has sunken its teeth into me and has no intention of letting me go. I don't know when it began. Had I known...
[...Lobelia doesn't finish his statement. What would he have done? What could he have done?]
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[He's a little helpless, probably - his voice strained, because he wants to understand. Maybe he needs to.]
What does that mean, Lobelia? Are you infected, or...?
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Not so fast.
[There's a knot forming in his throat. Agonizing, pointless feelings.]
I can't have you spreading around any baseless rumors, can I...? That would be problématique— both for you and me. I'll need some assurance that you won't send a mob my way, torches ablaze.
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[He pulls his hand away.]
[And then, both his hands move - gently, so gently, but strong all the same, as he grasps the man by the shoulders. He pulls him up to himself, almost onto his lap, and encircles him with his arms.]
[An embrace.]
[He holds him close, and just...does so. Without saying a word.]
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There's trepidation, and then Lobelia's hands find Hansa's back.]
...I'm sorry.
[For once, Lobelia has so little to say.]
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[Truly, hell. Truly, high water.]
[His sigh rattles through him, feeling exhausted. After everything...what, it ends like this? No. He won't accept that.]
You aren't meant to die here.
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...Oui, and neither are the rest of you. Should you be so close to me? It will mark you too. Tarnish you.
[Even Hansa will break with enough force, won't he?]
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[What's one more?]
[He shakes his head a little, mind going a million miles a minute, his heart fluttering like an anxious bird.]
You need to tell me everything. When it started. What symptoms you're having. I need to know.
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I had a suspicion something was wrong beginning with last week... but it's self-evident now. For all we know, the incubation period could be much longer.
[Symptoms, symptoms... Lobelia hums, cheek lolled against Hansa's shoulder.]
See... I haven't been losing sleep on purpose. The nightmares are novel. They blend the unconscious with the conscious a little too easily. The fever comes and goes.
[It's not unlike what's happening to the others when they linger too long in the sun minus the fever.]
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[Any regular person would have nightmares here. But this is a step up. A sinking of teeth...wait, didn't Lobelia say as such. He should have felt it then.]
[His hand comes up, petting lightly over the other's head.]
What are they about?
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The ground giving beneath people's feet. Hell swallowing them whole. It's others who die in my nightmares. People like you.
[People who have no business burning for an eternity.]