(no subject)

[thundery.livejournal.com]

[ There is a Larxene crouched in this room, the left side of his mouth smeared with blood, gripping locks of silver hair tightly between his gloved fingers. The smell of charred flesh and burnt rubber hangs thick in the air, visible in the hazy grey smoke. It comes from the impact of lightning on skin and armor and bone, shorting out nerves and numbing limbs and blackening the natural wooden floor to a large dark smear.

The replica sprawled across that blackened floor is female, and currently unconscious, but it's obvious she's taken the brunt of whatever bad mood he's in. Her head (and most of her torso) has been lifted off the floor by her hair.

He is not smiling. In fact, his face looks pretty blank for someone usually so expressive when causing others pain. ]

Comments

[thundery.livejournal.com]

I don't think she's quite done if you ask me.

[That was completely sarcastic, because ew, a Vexen. And what appears to be a completely insane one. Not that that's anything new.]

What do you want?

[snapfrost.livejournal.com]

[shh, he makes 'daddy' look sane. And squishy.]
I want many things.
Entertainment? Dinner and a show? Maybe that Xaldin with the tits?
But it's all sort of a mood thing.
Like whether I prefer meat raw or cooked.

[thundery.livejournal.com]

Oh, good. I've always wanted to see a Vexen snapped.

[He wrinkles his nose in complete disgust at those wants, wondering where this might be headed.]

[snapfrost.livejournal.com]

[It's all in the little reactions- he wouldn't even be a quarter as 'flamboyant' as he is if there's no potential to play his game. But that takes godly levels of patience to not do.]

Too bad I'm not Vexen.
[Read as: I am Vexen, but I don't like the name daddy and friends gave me because daddy and friends gave it so I stole something I'd rather be called out of popular media for the lulz and unoriginality.]

[thundery.livejournal.com]

Even, then? Or something I don't know yet?