exsilium | 01 | video | [backdated to 06/02]

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01 | video | [backdated to 06/02]

[ The name on this post is still Bariyan e Kodhi, but its current owner is mostly certainly not Bariyan.

Cat's sitting at a desk, elbow propped against its surface, his hand in his hair. The collar of his shirt has been pulled away to show the mess that's been made of his neck -- frost-nipped skin, bruising, great big bloody scratches. He's made no effort to tend to his injuries yet. He has, however, taken time to make sure that his hair is completely perfect.

He scowls. ]

Tell me, did anyone else here get physically assaulted by their roommate the moment they opened their fucking door? Or was I the only one who got tossed in with a goddamn psychopath?

[ Cat paws at his neck and looks surprised to feel blood-- he pulls his hand away hastily, tries to wipe it off on the back of his other hand, snarling in irritation. ]

This is the exact reason why I don't... like... sharing.

[ He's barely finished spitting his last syllable before he turns the tablet off. Then he picks it up and flings it at the wall, shrieking, but thankfully that portion of his incredibly mature and reasonable fit doesn't make it onto the network. ]

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[ IF YOU INSIST, SIR. Cat rubs a thumb over his windpipe, thoughtfully. ]

I was taught to expose my neck only as a sign of surrender. Of submission. [ There is a serious exertion of physical effort to say this word, and that's not even faked in the slightest. Some habits die hard. ] And it wasn't so much taught to me as beaten into me.

[Adra looks at him in growing alarm.]

Beaten?

[ Good reaction. Cat's pleased. He continues to stare at the wall, though his expression is growing angrier by degrees. ]

Occasionally whipped. Twice branded.

[ The brand on his forehead is gone now, replaced by something that... that Cat doesn't know what to think of, so he doesn't think about it at all. But the one on his wrist, the first one, that's still there. He draws his sleeve back and scratches at the scarred skin. ]

[Oh ...

Adra leans forward. His fingers hover over the brand, though he doesn't move to touch Catsovi again. He murmurs.]

How terribly cruel.

[ Cat scratches harder at his wrist and shudders, grimacing in distaste. ]

It was a long time ago. I haven't been anyone's slave for centuries.

[Slavery. Adrasteius can hardly think of anything worse. Unthinkingly, he puts his palm over Cat's hand, as though trying to still him.]

I'm glad you escaped.

[ That gets a slight rise out of Cat, a tensing of the shoulders that quickly melts away again. Then he laughs, stiffly, still digging his nails into his scar. ]

I haven't even thought about my enslavement in years.

[Adra mutters, embarrassed. He pulls back again.]

Ah--I brought up a painful memory. Sorry.

[Jeez. Maybe he should go. Adra shifts uncomfortably, and starts to stand.]

[ Cat moves quickly, lightning-fast, going to grab Adrasteius' sleeve. ]

You didn't bring it up. The maniac who attacked me did.

[ He finally turns to face Adrasteius now. ]

Please. Stay.

[Adra blinks at the grab, but he sinks slowly back into his perch.]

--all right. [he clears his throat.] It seems you did well for yourself in the intervening years, at any rate.

That I have. [ Cat runs both hands through his hair, upsetting his crown, sending it reeling away from his head before drawing in close again. ] I lived in worse than poverty for the better part of my mortal life. I've spent most of my immortality trying to get as far from that as possible.

[whooah, stop the train.]

You're immortal? That's not common among humans.

[ Smiling again: ] When I said centuries, I did mean centuries. About... eight of them, I think.

[THAT'S A LOT OF CENTURIES. Some of Adra's sympathy drains.]

And you've been wallowing in decadence for--how many of those?

Less than half a century. [ Actually more than half. Cat's got a fuzzy concept of time, all right? ] It's taken me a while to get to where I am now, considering where I started.

[STILL A LONG TIME. His brows knit together.]

And--where are you, now? What position did you occupy in your society?

Back home-- council to our emperor. Advisor. Personal friend. As high as you could climb without being the emperor himself. [ Shrug. ] But now? Here? In this moment? [ Cat turns to Adrasteius with a smirk. ] I'm not much of anything, I imagine.

[Adrasteius codes all of those responses as 'oppressor', and his lip curls.]

I see. [he shrugs.] That may be true, but taking someone out of their original circumstances doesn't necessarily change their attitude. Or their sense of entitlement.

[ HEH. UR STILL PRETTY EVEN WHEN YOU LOOK SO DISPARAGING, ADRA ]

Oh? Do I come off as entitled? [ Cat draws a knee up, rests his chin upon it. ] Does my attitude need adjusting?

[STEP BACK!!

Adra narrows his eyes.]

I don't know you well enough yet to say. You do have a flair for the dramatic, though, don't you?

Do I overdo it? [ Frown. ] Is that... bad?

[ Suddenly anxious, Cat goes to pick at his throat again, but after the healing there's not much left to pick at. ]

[Oh, what. Hey. In a gentler tone:]

No; it's charming.

[He reaches to pull Cat's hand away from his throat.] Don't do that.

Is it? I don't know. I don't know any other way to be. [ Cat only reluctantly lets Adrasteius pull his hand away, still frowning, still looking uncertain. ] It's what people expect of me....

[ Yes? No? Is it? Cat doesn't know, he just knows that there's a personality and a set of character traits and a certain mindset that comes to him easily, that fits around his skin without any effort, so that's the persona he falls back to time and time again. But he doesn't know if it's him. Is that really the sum and the whole of Catsovi e Viciro -- proud, vain, shallow, degenerate and jaded and bored? Then where did this crack come from, this ugliness that pushes Cat to toy with these people -- all of them, even the ones who think they're on to him -- this hatred that drives him, this realization that in the end, the only reason he's here and the only reason he's speaking to these people is to eventually see them burn?

He doesn't know, of course. That only makes him angrier. That only fuels his hatred. ]

[Adra can only see the uncertainty--not any of the roiling hatred and rage beneath. Too bad his supernatural senses don't extend that far. Even so, he is getting an inkling that Catsovi isn't that solidly put together.

He squeezes Cat's hand gently, feeling a little unsure, himself.]

Well--if that's all you know, I suppose that's all you can do.

[ Catsovi returns the squeeze, slowly, hesitantly. ]

Yes. [ He forces the uncertainty away, smiles, and as quick as that his moment of vulnerability is over. ] I think my tend towards the dramatic is one of my least inoffensive traits, really.

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bloodspeaker - 2013-06-09 15:52 (UTC) - Expand

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