The Third Generation 1x1

[BlueJae]

"Where is this place anyway? Are you quite confident in that fact that you summoned the right gate?"


"Have you no trust in my abilities brother? I have been at this longer than you have."


"Mind you, you were only born seconds before me. You haven't- oh forget it. I'm not going to argue this over with you."


"But..?"


"But mind you-" The eldest prince couldn't help but smile as his brother did as he usually did and started going off, it wasn't the usual for him to give up on an argument, and that was simply that. Course, he did have good reason to be of question, they had been walking for a while now, but it would've been weird to show up right in the middle of town, and what with all the electronics and such- it would've been sure to have blown something up. Runes were tricky things, greedy, and like to suck the power out of other things to source themselves. Thus, the city would've been at a power outage, even for the simplest of them, which in turn would've turned into a major disaster and who would've wanted that? Daneil eyed his older brother, though shorter than him and younger looking, he was none the sort. Of course, they did have a younger brother. Yes, now that had been a shock. The one time they turned their back to do a little research and they came back to a little boy. Odd it was, the two had watched him for quite a while, because two girls just hadn't been enough. But now their sibling-ry was at an odds. It was two girls and two boys but of course now it was three boys and two girls. Though, it must not have felt like it, what with their disappearance. Hell, they hadn't even met Camille, or William, and Briar hadn't seen them in forever. Weird, how they'd despised their father for the exact act, not being around that was- and in the end it'd only drove the two of them to do the same. They weren't looking to change the fact, ok, well, not by much that was. They were only looking to leave the Underworld, not like Lucifer or Michael would notice anyway, and continue their traditions best they could. It was a bore not to have a least one younger sibling to watch, and besides, it'd crossed their minds more than once just what their siblings might be doing after all, since two seemed to have other halves and the last was...Well, doing as he did, whatever that was. That and they had a little niece to look for, well actually, they had three- one older than the rest. Interesting how their family was growing, how their line would move on. As for them themselves? The though was something to scoff at, they hadn't the time for romance, and that wasn't to say that they were incapable. No, they loved their family didn't they? Course, somewhere in there.


Daneil blinked at a sudden whistle, he glanced over at Silas, who's eyes were trained on a bright source of light in the distance "i told you I knew what I was doing." He said, looking at Daneil for some sort of reaction, approval, distaste, but the man only hummed "Impressive, isn't it? Think we've advanced anymore than the humans have?" He asked, watching the other nod "Certainly." Silas gestured for his brother to move forward, who eyed him back suspiciously, but continued on either way.


The two made it in without much of an issue, and soon they were wandering all about, pushing through the crowds just to get a glimpse of the more impressive architecture of the city. Daneil was the more easily distracted one of the two, Silas however was eyeing the people, watching them move by, staring down those who stared back, but of course, he found it easier to win most fights. For those who didn't give up a quick glare was enough to send them packing the other way before he was tugging his brother out of the street and back into reality. Those cars wouldn't appreciate his brother totaling them if he was to be run over- though it wouldn't go like that persay. They didn't need to raise a hand, or do some ridiculous waving of their arms to activate and use a rune, no, what they needed was focus, power, and a target. They had two of the three twenty four seven.

 

[ROUX]

This was the third time the pencil had broken in under twenty minutes...and third time, so had his concentration. The pieces of wood lay on either side of the arm over the glass desk, the sharp edges glinting in the sunlight off of the thin coat of white paint, and the man who had broken it wondered why he hadn't just used pen - and then he remembered. He may have been able to heal, but ink poisoning was still annoying to deal with...he'd much rather to go with splinters when cutting into his skin as deliberate as he had done. A pale hand reached for one of the small square sheets to the right of his surface space, plucking the soft white material away from the neatly folded stack. Little black droplets around the arm that hadn't moved were soaked up slowly as he dabbed at them, the material starting to stain the same black as the vein under that snowy skin that flowed the same. Blood...his blood...it was a strange thing, yes. And he'd experimented with it several times - though this was not one of them. No, this was jut something he did when he was thinking - thinking about things that he shouldn't have been considering. Someone he shouldn't have been considering. And every time he closed his own eyes, he saw those young and innocent grey green ones...that sharp jawline that he ached to be able to run his finger down on his own time, at his own will...and yet those very same fingers tossed the white fabric into a soaked pile to the left, the tainted material laying on top of a small white tray that would be whisked away in an hour by one of his employees...it would be gone before he returned. It always was. But for now, his hand swiped the broken pencil away before he could stretch his hand out, the small but razor sharp black claws on his hand closing around another, pulling the perfectly sharpened tool from a little box - the last. And he closed his eyes once more, his lips curling into a smile, seeing those eyes in his imagination once more. Hadn't he learned from his father's mistake? There could be no love in chaos...and yet - he couldn't escape this one. Not forever anyway, he couldn't satisfy himself with the little mind games and glances, the light touches and double sided words...no, he always wanted more. But of course, the more would be the fatal flaw in his plan, wouldn't it? The one he'd been playing the moment he weaved his way onto the board, seizing power by letting the others who had it destroy themselves...being the little push that had sent Julia Rothman over the edge, he would never admit to. But then, no one had suspected - only because he did not jump at the chance to lead himself. Simply did what he had been taught, lying in wait...and when he saw a chance, he would dive onto it - or better yet, he could make the chance. And the moment he learned about the Lightwood boy he'd gotten it. You see, he didn't want power over the underworld of Limbo...no, he wanted it all. Maybe not to destroy, but simply to remake...in the image he deemed fit. Of course, the weak links would have to be cut...like an infected leaf off of a plant. But the one weak link - if the man could call it that - the one thing that would damage him the most, he couldn't bring himself to snip away - because he knew what would happen. The smile was fading from his lips now, as those eyes that he'd seen in his mind began to fill, with none other than tears. But tears of something so out of his comprehension, as well as the liquid itself...blood. But not hi own...no, this was red, so....human. It should not have been possible but...he saw. He saw every time he thought. And it was then, when he felt his heart could take no more, he would fill it with the one thing he could still understand. And the pencil was digging into his arm now, dragging up along those same veins, the acrid smell of burning flesh filling his nose, a tip dipped in angel's blood as the pencil had been. Archangel blood. And he punished himself, yes...but also centered himself. The pain wasn't the one thing he could understand - it was the loneliness. The mark that he seemed to carry like that of Cain, a mark he could never be rid of...his name. And the loneliness reminded him, yes - he was a Fray. He was the son of death himself...itself. And of a demon born - no, created to command darkness. That combination alone was enough to convince himself he would never, never have someone so pure love him. Because he could not love. He had never felt it. But the hurt reminded him, and finally...those eyes disappeared from his mind, blocked out by the blood in the end, their color turning to red instead of the green - but at that point the man did not feel. And as his mind snapped, so did the wood, and his own orbs shot open, the pale blue of on of hi father's as the iris - but a slitted gold pupil of his demon parent's. And he gazed in front of him, onto the wall in front of him. And something cold overtook his heart once more as he removed the last of the burning wood from his flesh as he regained is composure. It could not be stopped, he would never be stopped...and neither would his plan. He had told the hunter the morning before to begin the third step in the process - of manipulating the one with the mark...for if the man could figure out a way to control that rune, he would have all the power he would need - a demon wielding the runes of an angel...almost. Trough the demon angel hybrid himself. But even the son of Heaven and Hell could not handle such power, he would need to be...built to. And the man had taken it upon himself to do just that. He would not let his own feelings stand in the way of his rise to power - he would wipe out the Lightwood name with one if their own. No longer would his heritage be a damming mark in his soul, his decided fate by the realm that called itself god. No, he would rule...he would conquer...and he would start from scratch. And his weapon, his living weapon would do it for him. He smiled once more, this time an open grin, revealing the sharp teeth that had torn through so many, his eyes alive with the blood he wanted to spill. He was...he would be....an inventor. Of a new realm, a better one, enhanced in every way. Then , and only then could he oppose the one who had wronged him.


The fingers tapped against the desk, one, two, three times. And he again dropped the shard away - though this time he would not need the fabric to clean his spilled blood. He raised his arm, letting his tongue drag across, ignoring the pain. And those green grey eyes....were forgotten. For now.

 

[BlueJae]

The travel back had been tedious, well, if you asked him, of course, there was good reason for him to say so. Usually, things went by a lot faster, but then again, he usually wasn't thinking so much. He'd been at this for a while, six years at least if someone wanted to get exact. Things tended to blur themselves if he was being honest, after so long, everything was starting to turn into the same thing. Like a damned office man who had the same routine everyday, doing the same thing every day, and continuing on the endless vicious cycle until the day he died. His 'brothers'- so to speak - had much more interesting lives he could say. Then again that was always up for debate. He would defend that statement though, as it was his own and he refused to be wrong, but was he really in the first place? Sometimes, rarely, he wondered what it would be like to leave, spare himself the headache of dealing with SCORPIA and all it held. He could do it, disappear off the damn grid, they'd never find him where he was going and god knows they would try. Yes, he wondered, but then he'd look over at his team. His partners, his own brothers of a sense, and he knew he couldn't. Despite the times there had been when he fully considered it, he never would. Wouldn't dare leave them under the hold of SCORPIA any more than they already were, or other things. Other things that were pushing his damn buttons as of late, and there were many of those things- oh so many. He was an irritated man sometimes, he would be the first to admit, but others would tell you different, and that was because he hid it well. All too well, unhealthy it was, but he didn't care too much for himself much less his friends. And maybe that was the problem, the source of what was causing him late night migraines, the source of that which was causing him to run off now and then when he was all but to fed up with it. Never to far, but to find somewhere cold to cool off in the most literal sense until it was all over then come back much too early in the morning, hours before he was supposed to get up, earn a lack of sleep, do what was required in hope that something wouldn't piss him off again today and move on. It'd been a good run while it'd lasted, he'd been doing well, doing as he did, course- then William had gone after a target he shouldn't of. He was in the right, for a while, Nicholas would've agreed going after the moving files, but it'd gone down so quickly after that. Then again, he didn't know what he himself would've done. Life was so...Circular. Going in that same cycle for a long while, but none the less, Nicholas was working with whatever it threw at him but sometimes the silent man needed to say something if only to correct an error. Maybe he sounded like an asshole, maybe he wasn't always the easiest going, and he'd take the fall for that but he couldn't let the others make the same mistakes over and over. Their organization didn't accept failure, and if they were presented with it, things didn't always go well for the presenters. This of course, tonight's fun arrangement of interruptions- it'd gone too far, too deep, for multiple reasons. It'd gotten personal, something they couldn't afford to have, something that couldn't reach the higher ups, something...That god forbid reach his boss, who would more than likely take advantage of. He wouldn't have it, that man was simply at the top of his 'To-Do' list, and no one on that list had survived, but Nicholas could never. Not now at least, not at the position he was in and lord knows he didn't earn it fairly, not him no, maybe someone else but he was...What was the word? He was very, very good at what he did, and that was the concerning part. None the less, tonight's activities needed attention,whether William liked it or not. Surely, he had to have been expecting it, should have been. HQ wasn't the most comforting place in the world, but cozy wasn't what Nicholas needed right now. He needed cold and sharp, something that would get it through the other's head that they couldn't afford to be having these kinds of problems. Nicholas didn't exactly want William to fix it, well no- that was a bit of a lie. Thing was, he could do as he pleased, but there were rules to that, and right now, he'd already broken one. But, like he'd said, it went deeper than that, the injuries could cause problems for- Mm, other things, and that was the last thing he needed. Last thing he needed on his conscious that was. Whatever the case, since they were back, there was no use wasn't time on the issue nor beating around the bush about it. Nicholas stared down at his cane for a second, staring at his own smaller reflection. How he'd changed, and yet, whether it was for better or for worse he would never know. He was trying, honestly, but sometimes that just wasn't enough. What he was doing wasn't enough, and not everything was under his control as he would've liked it to be. Then again, one man can't have all the power- yes, he'd make damn sure of that. But, for now, he needed to go after William, and so it was.

 

[ROUX]

William didn't really feel like thinking at the moment - but of course, his first defense against this kind of thing wasn't going to work this time, he couldn't just kill someone. But still, he needed something to do with his hands, something physical and rather difficult to take his mind off what he knew was coming eventually - and of course, what had happened that had caused him to dread it so. He had darted away from the other two the moment he'd entered the base, heading the for the armory, planning to immerse himself in his world of weaponry for a little while longer, thinking that at lest there's one thing that he couldn't screw up. And he had, screwed up anyway, when he did hi cousin in halfway. He could have killed her, yes - but that would land him in a good place with SCORPIA but the hellhole with his entire family for good...or he could have just plain made sure the file were erased and then left, avoiding all of this. But of course, he'd hated to hurt her, to get back at her...stupid it was, and he knew it. And on top of that he'd been feeling strange for the last few days anyway, he always did...every damn month he got these same headaches that seemed to burn in his skull, and it was happening again. He grimaced as he pushed open the door to the area he was looking for, the motion making him queasy almost and dizzy before it passed. Sadly his headaches did not go away as quickly as the dizziness had, and he groaned, knowing exactly how long he'd have to deal with it - and of course, it had to be now. Now when he knew all he was doing besides avoiding his own thoughts was avoiding those that he knew a certain other would want to express, sooner or later. He didn't want to deal with it, or the guilt, no he wasn't heartless enough to just be stressing over his own bloody merciless job, but the fact hat he almost killed someone and broke one of his own rules, two of them. he didn't kill children, and he didn't kill family. Then what would he be - nothing better than the cold blooded merciless killer that he'd had to convince himself he wasn't entirely so many times. Usually just after he had done something to be seen as terrible in a normal person's eyes, but then, none of them were normal were they? Not even the humans that worked with SCORPIA were pushovers, nowhere close. He was only here because of one person to be honest, William anyway - sure he was level skill wise now with everyone, maybe even above most - but he didn't think he'd have chosen the path, much less gotten in to the organization if Nicholas hadn't saved his life. And so some of that guilt went towards his friend too, that every time he screwed up he was letting the other down, and it was easier to beat himself up over it when no one was watching, so that's what he did, retreating into a far corner with one of his gun's he'd nabbed off the wall along his walk, disappearing behind another rack into a back corner, not even noticing the ears and tail that had materialized when he'd reached his spot. Not those - those were accidents, something he couldn't control yet, but little did anyone know, if they were out and lashing like his tail was, something was wrong. And not just the usual broodiness type of wrong, no, he had to be feeling pretty damn stressed out about something for this to happen, and within five minutes, he'd deconstructed and rebuilt the weaponry sixteen different ways, using the object like a Rubik's cube as he tried to figure out new ways to build the thing in which it would still work. He wasn't Henry, he wasn't very good with the technological part -but sheer structure he could do, and it was indeed keeping his hands busy, but not working as hell as he'd thought of his mind. He was getting frustrated, trying to ignore the pounding in his head, his ears flat back against his skill as his tail flicked on his right side, not even noticing that his fingers had begun to bleed raw until he dropped one of the pieces. He sighed, looking at the clock - he'd been at it for only a half hour. And yet he felt like he'd just sat down...he wanted to talk to someone, quite honestly, about what was going on, about figuring out what was going on. But SCORPIA did not tolerate weakness. And so neither would he, though he had a feeling the pain he felt wasn't of his own doing. But if he was being honest...he didn't know if it was Henry's stupid experiment making him feel these damn kitten feelings, but he really just wanted to curl up next to Nicholas and go to sleep - which he hadn't done in too long - and just....relax for once. But there were so many things wrong with that, for one Nicholas was probably fed up with him, for the right reasons. But even if he wasn't, he didn't think his friend was really the type for unexplained physical contact, much less his, and laying in the other's lap would be strange enough without these feelings he was already having. And then - he didn't have time to relax did he? He felt like he should have gone to look for another assignment, another kill to take his mind off of this mess. And then he found himself, and his thoughts right back were he started...trying not to. His head hit the table in front of him and he sighed, his tail drooping as he tried to ignore the pain, and the confusion - and the undeniable feeling of want underneath it all. He wanted...he didn't' know...someone yes. Someone to...love? But he had that, had family, just couldn't go back to him. He couldn't explain to them, they'd never understand, and he wasn't close to anyone else. Or rather he was, but not in the way he wanted. He'd screwed up everything, he always did, and now this too...he supposed he could just simply imagine curling into someone's arms, yes. Being murmured sweet words to, stroked behind the ears, told that he wasn't the colossal fuck up he couldn't help seeing every time he looked in the mirror - saw what he didn't want to be so long ago but had become a worse version of. He didn't know who he was supposed to be. And no one could help him find it. Shielded by the cover of his arms, William sniffled, convinced no one would bother looking for him, not now, when they were trying to do damage control over his shit or other, more important things than he, like what he'd killed for in the first place he supposed. He didn't know why SCORPIA was hell bent on the recovery of those files, he hadn't read them, or the experiments the information had inside the briefcase. Something about Project Cable, yes - noting of his concern...never was. He was nothing. And where he thought no one could see him - he saw that alone, felt it. Never would fit in - a hybrid in every sense of the word. He acted like he didn't care and he did - but he sucked it the hell up and shoved bullet through bone and whatever else he had to to keep on living, if you could call it that. Sometimes...he missed the days where he could burn, just burn through everything...at least he was free. But he felt as if that flame was slowly being smothered. And he cared for people, he did, even if they didn't care for him back - and he wouldn't break free of that damn hod SCORPIA had on him, because they'd break those people he cared about. And it was his own fault. So he kept on - and he only could imagine, a better life...though it never took long for him to realize those imagined arms weren't real, and he was sitting at the table with bits of a weapon that he'd killed thousands with, snowy haired head in his hands, sobbing.

 

[BlueJae]

It only come to Nicholas's attention that the other had moved off when he'd finally snapped back into reality. Shouldn't have been too hard to find him, the man had a high liking to weaponry, so, Nicholas would go off that. For now that was. A ways off from his current location, but he could make time fly if he really wanted to, easier done than said, and as such he could work subconsciously if honestly needed- and it was needed. He spun his cane slowly habitually as he carried on. So many issues in one night, each problem taking a hit at the inside of his skull, and how unpleasant that was. If not for the others he wondered how long he would've lasted, really, in SCORPIA. How long did his desperate state last, because he couldn't remember when it faded. Maybe it did along with his younger self, he was smarter, and maybe that was because of all the organization had taught him, he could use that in the outside world. He didn't need this place, not anymore, and while they could think that they were using him all they wanted that simply wasn't the case. Funny it was, when he'd sought them out, and humorous it was how that had gone. He must've looked like the most suspicious thirteen year old they'd had, coming out of no where and already knowing a decent amount about him. If he was correct, and he usually was be it by eavesdropping or just common knowledge, that people usually didn't find SCORPIA, if anything, it was the other way around. Seemed he'd been flipping the tables with them for a long time, since he'd gotten there really. He could do without them now, he could. But- he wouldn't. Not yet at least. Sure, he'd gone over the fact that he wouldn't leave William or Henry but there was something more. There was a sense of fear...Something that terrified him about being alone, knowing well if he chose the other path life always had set out for him that that's all he'd ever be. His brothers worked in packs, team work was essential, needed- and then there was Nicholas. He was like his father, he didn't work in teams, and the only reason he'd ever gotten along with William or Henry was because he was forced to work in teams and at a young age where he couldn't turn down whatever was required. Of course, after time, he got comfortable. Things changed- he changed. But, ah, he was older now, and in that other life he would have a choice. It wasn't the fact that he wasn't good with new people, no be they strangers or friends, he was taught to be charming and polite...Even if he did hate their guts. No, it was a matter of bond, and...Working with people he had no distinct connection with, it might as well have been like working alone in the first place. So, to spare himself the trouble, he was stubborn. If he wasn't working with the people he trusted, three of them there were, then he wasn't working with anyone at all. No matter the circumstance. His father worked that way and so would he- ah, but, that was if he ran off. Say he did, it was that lone life that made him so uncomfortable. Hell, even when Henry locked himself away in that room of his and William was god knows where he'd all but shut himself up tight in his room, fiddling around with his fingers, assuming it was a normal night. Unless he had an agenda or was running to cool off he was nothing but that same thirteen year old boy again. Shying away from any foreign biological beings, delving away somewhere the light would never find him. It was easier that way, for him at least, than to actually move along and make an effort. Maybe he was an introvert that way, but what more did you expect from a man who didn't speak unless spoken to ninety five percent of the time and only spoke up when he needed to voice his opinion the other five percent. There was no in between, there was no idle chit chat, friendly conversation, he simply was and that was all he would ever be. Nothing but a silent killer, one could say, but that was life. That was survival. All he was trying to do was survive, and it was becoming impossible without errors here and there, and maybe that was his fault. Hell, had he been paying more attention, had he been closer, had he not hesitated maybe William wouldn't have sustained injuries, which of course was also an issue. He couldn't have stopped him from going after the girl no, but that wasn't what hurt him...Physically at least, he didn't look too pleased when the woman had started screaming about who it was. Family, a touchy subject with William, and as for he himself? He didn't have any family to be touchy about. And to think, he'd been so excited after killing the queen. Not for the murder, but to go back to his father, tell him he did it! He'd done it, he'd saved the town just like he'd asked him to! Of course- hah, of course, the world was a cruel place. Cruel enough to take his father away by blood, which had finally gotten to the man. Cruel enough to force him to not only put the city down, but his father as well. Gaven...Gaven told him that his father had said prior if anything happened to him that he wouldn't let anyone touch him but his own flesh and blood, and Nicholas had been all that there was left so- so things happened. Blood was spilled. End of story. He didn't have any blood related family left and if he did he didn't care. He wasn't about to get close enough to them to have them ripped away from him. Wasn't about to get to close to anything- again, that was. Seems he'd failed that the same three times over, and those three people, they were all he had left. There was a reason he put them before himself, a reason he'd throw himself in front of any threat before he left danger come for them. He didn't was to see anyone he cared about die, no not anymore. He wanted to die, at least, before he saw any of them do just that. It was selfish, yes, and he regretted it every time the thought crossed his mind, told himself he needed to think about their thoughts more but he wasn't willing. He wasn't willing to let any harm hit them so if it cost him his life by all means, but he wouldn't be hurt again, and he wouldn't let anyone's life slip away because he was too. Damn. Slow. But, as promised, time had flown by, just like that. So, now at the armory he reached for the door and pulled it open, pushing the thoughts down hard. No more, not now, he could pathetically wallow some other time. It sickened him to think he was even somewhat close to having self-pity. None of that, it was time to focus on someone else, for the better he liked to think. So he wouldn't get hurt anymore, or at least it would make Nicholas feel better to think that he wouldn't...

 

[ROUX]

Those bullets - or rather, bullet William had used the week before, they were the best he had. And as usual, his best wasn't good enough for him, and he was now left tinkering with that too, having placed his other weapon back and retrieved his sniper rifle next, discarding the silencer to the side since he planned to improve that too. He had indeed found a way to fuse the electric parts of his energy with the parts that Henry had constructed - they had collaborated on this yes, one of the many inventions they had done together at that. He wanted to make them not only more effective, but able to witch the levels of sorts on his guns to see exactly how much energy he could pack on without blowing himself up in the process. He cursed as a spark bit at his index finger as he did just that, completely cooking even the extremely sturdy piece of metal in front of him, and he tossed it away, moving for another, though with a tool this time to pull a wire from it's shape and clip it, re-mending the coils to try and push the flow a different route, the less obstructed one, which he hoped would allow for a faster release into what Henry called the 'safety zone', an area that could effectively hold the blue energy, almost giving the illusion that he was charging the gun itself. He was no longer idly messing with parts, no, he'd brought himself past that dreaded mental breakdown - or rather deterioration, as he figured he'd really loose it one day anyway, what with these hidden thoughts and feelings, not all pertaining to the same subject that that, but all of those subjects being unaware of his mulling over them. Of course, he didn't mean it in the literal way, loosing it anyway - he just figured there'd be a point where he'd just be done, somehow, and learn to accept things as they were. For now though, he planned to keep fighting for...or against whatever it was that kept him chained as such to his own regrets, though he wasn't quite sure what beast he'd been so afraid of in his mind to shackle himself like such anyway, as the point was that he couldn't break free. Not yet. But this daydreaming certainly wasn't going to help his current situation, and so he'd forgone it. Instead, he returned to the topic of his last kill, though his mind glossed over the information he'd killed for, and to the killing itself, going over exactly how many seconds it'd taken for him to make his departure as smooth as possible. He'd never been caught before, not without meaning to, and not with SCORPIA anyway. By them, yes, that first and only time, when the vigilante in him had been turned into the mercenary, his fire channeled to something of a singular target each time if he was speaking in general. He didn't remember when he had been captured yes - and he'd sworn to himself, even after being tortured and forced into agreement about not only his joining but his silence, that he'd become more than what he was. He couldn't control his powers and he was afraid to try - and most didn't know the extent of the damage he could do to things, not even his own family, since they'd never seen him try. Or maybe not try, but feel something enough to make him loose control in one way or another. But that he couldn't allow, of even if he wanted to, his position would not. The early days he remembered...being put in a team with a couple others his age, on that island where they had been trained. He was one of the older ones of course, even going by human years - which he had been. And he'd been intimidated at first, but then - he wanted to be someone beyond his powers, and that was the place to learn. And guns...well, he'd flocked toward them. Sure he could use swords, and sickles, they were traditional in both heaven and hell, and back home he'd been more than adept with a Scythe. But a scythe here...on limbo...especially made of Demonglass that he could make burn with Angelfyre - it was a dangerous weapon even too dangerous for him at the time, and somehow far too advanced yet outdated for exactly what it was. And firearms, well...there were so many possibilities. And he wanted them all, spending that entire first year learning each and everything, practicing in ways others would have thought ridiculous, but had saved his life and others - and had taken them too. He'd specialized in Assassination for a reason, and Pyrotechnics - his fire could be controlled if used through things, he knew that much. As for his abilities with things of the storm nature? Dangerous, very dangerous, especially since that came from the untapped demon side of his powers. He'd gotten close to that one time, before the island, where Nicholas had found him, been sent to kill him...he was hovering above the land, flames, blue flames devouring the city and he, trapped in the middle. His eyes - his eyes then had been white as his friend had later told him, and then there was something William did remember. His hands - growing darker, clawed, as something like skin but tougher and pitch black against his own threatened to cover his arms, spikes pushing their way out of his skin - and then there came the much needed pain of Nicholas getting to him, somehow. He couldn't remember, never could remember what he'd done to get to that point of destruction...it was like he was someone else...he didn't have a hold on his own mind. And thus, why he mastered weaponry, creating himself to be nearly unmatchable in those areas of expertise, a deadshot of course, and a trickshot if he needed to be. As for not though, it was this that made him want to get this particular project spot on. And that wasn't the only reason...there was something much bigger he was working on. Not bigger in size maybe but in power...yes. He thought he had possibly found a way to channel that lightning energy...make it run alongside his skin, making him literally untouchable - but then, he was getting off track. For now...this damned bullet.

 

[BlueJae]

As he was, the man moved silently, no- more than that, soundlessly. It was required for someone within the ranks of he, who, while he wasn't exactly an assassin like the other, though he did kill, still needed the skill if only for his work and hunting itself. That, paired with the fact that he moved slowly, would've probably explained why the other hadn't looked up from whatever he'd been working on. Nicholas would've taken another step forward but he'd made sure the door closed as quiet as he'd entered, not willing to disturb the other just yet. He needed to think of what he'd say, course, usually he could think of things off the top of his head, and usually he did, but, this was a sensitive subject and despite the fact that he did want to get his message across, he wasn't going to do it mercilessly. So, he'd put some thought into it while he made his way over, his steps never making a sound. If he had to calculate, due to the size of the room put up against the length traveled by his strides, and his average sized legs, it'd take him approximately eleven steps to make it from the doors to William. Now, if he were to estimate the time it'd take him to get those eleven steps out of the way, assuming William didn't turn around between then and now, he'd give himself about five and a half seconds to make it there- he could make about two steps a second so. Alright, so, eleven steps and five and a half seconds, that's all he had to fit a whole lecture plan into. Alright. He could do that, certainly.


One second. What would he start off with, possibly, probably have to start with the files in the first place, leading off to the fact that somewhere along those lines he'd put the girl in danger. What had the woman been shouting about- hell, what had her name been in the first place? Briar, right, right, left...Avery? Yes, left her to die. Unknowingly obviously, course, what had Avery been doing with the files in the first place? How old was she to being with, actually? Ah, he hadn't the time to think about that. Two seconds. Files, files, files would lead into...Into personal problems. Yes, that. He couldn't have William making those kinds of mistakes- course, whatever family problems he had was his own business, and despite the undeniable curiosity to just what was William's family in general Nicholas tried not to let himself stray too far from his own rule not to pry. Though sometimes it just happened. Three seconds. And speaking of straying he was already doing it with under three seconds to spare. Lovely. Right, personal issues, keep them out of work by any means. They hadn't the time and there was far worse consequences for it that just Nicholas nagging to him about it. If his family was a weakness, and god knew it was for most people, then who would there be to stop someone of higher rank to use that against him. Four seconds. Where to go after that, a good question. It was a simple mistake, nothing he could bat at for too long. Inquire about the girl, files, tell him that he needed to keep this out of work and not to let it interfere, surely that wouldn't bring up too many problems. As long as he got it across that was. This wasn't something that the other could brush off, or to put it in better terms, not something Nicholas would let him brush off. Five seconds. That would have to be his last priority, making sure that William didn't brush this off, it was the last thing he needed, and sure, he did usually say something every time someone messed up- be it a small comment to a full sentence to an actual lecture- but he had his reasons, didn't he? He did, and as did every one else, in some way for something. And, he was never one to push if someone snapped at him. Then again, that was for reasons unmentioned, and had a rather negative effect over all. But, his five and a half seconds were up, and as such, he stopped about a foot away from William. Just watching, and waiting honestly, something he often did if only to set their mind on the subject. He could've just jumped right into it, but he preferred to let himself be known first, if only so when they did notice him that was the first thing their mind went to. Sort of like when you were doing something wrong and the teacher came up behind you. You didn't need to look to know what you were getting next, honestly, and that was always what you thought of first. In a sense, your impending consequence.

 

[ROUX]

If it had taken Nicholas five and a half seconds to make his plan and step to him, it had taken William the other half of the sixth second to decide he wasn't going to turn around. Of course, it wasn't just the fact that Nicholas had managed to sneak up on him - again - but the uncomfortably shaky mood he'd been in earlier, earlier as in about ten minutes ago, and he was willing to bet money that the other wasn't in here to comfort him on anything of the sort - it made William bitter, he couldn't help it, which in turn saved most of that bitterness for himself. He was the one who hadn't said anything, who couldn't say anything, and who had deliberately acted, like in everything else, that he was alright. Nick couldn't know if no one told him...not when more than half of William's job description required the skill not only to go physically unnoticed, but to be manually inconspicuous - and as for emotionally? They weren't supposed to have them at all. Not even a sense of loyalty really, William had seen many times where assassins of all levels would turn against their own - hell, even the great Yassen Gregorovitch had attempted to slither his own way out. All for a teenage boy, that was, back when the organization didn't threaten or kidnap children to do their dirty work for them - and could at least respect Gregorovitch for that, refusing to kill children. He hurt them, yes, but never killed them, and the thought made him grimace as he went on pretending not to notice that burning stare behind him. If Nicholas didn't want to say anything yet, neither would William, there was no reason to start the lecture sooner than it had to be started. And beyond that, William knew he had messed up, already best himself over the head with it out of habit, and he didn't want to hear it again. Or maybe it was just the fact that he didn't want to hear it from Nicholas, knowing that he'd let his friend down...maybe because even for half the trouble William made, though nothing too jeopardizing at that, he at least was usually able to make up for it, being as good as he was at what he did. But situations like these, he didn't make up for anything, and he hated to see the man disappointed. In him especially. But of course he couldn't explain exactly why, he could never do anything of the sort...He refused to put Nicholas through the trouble of knowing the feelings that Will simply couldn't shut out. Not when he was lucky to be a friend anyway, he didn't want to jeopardize that - in any way, not telling g the man he loved him or screwing up in the field. But he couldn't help being irritated by the inability to do or say so without losing him, so he simply pretended the other wasn't there. Or at least, that he didn't care that he was. The hybrid simply sighed and let a blue flame flicker over his fingers, turning his hand slightly as it danced between them and over his palm.

 

[BlueJae]

He should've expected this, really, and he didn't blame the other honestly. Hell, Nicholas pricked himself from time to time when he started to think about his rather, probably, unwanted tendencies. Course, that's only when he was going over the day in head, staring oddly at the ceiling in his room with a scorpion tangled in his hair and trying desperately to get out with thrashing movements and angry snaps. No, that was kept for times after hours, he couldn't afford to second guess himself- and then he did, if only for a few split seconds, and his entire plan slipped his mind of everything he wanted to say, if only for the fact that he'd been all but oblivious to the...ears and tail? Ears and tail...Right. No, wrong, that didn't add up. Either that, or the man had been missing something, and for how long he wondered. He stared, for a second, eyebrows down in a rather straight line as he example that he was- where was he? Somewhere between distracted and utterly confused. He mentally slapped himself, he could not afford to stare all night, er, nor did he want the embarrassing feat, knowing well he would stare all night until he figured it out himself. Now, then, where was he... He blinked, trying to regain position, William screwing up often- No, William didn't screw up on a daily basis- if anything it was the complete opposite. It was a rare occurrence, least if you were to ask Nicholas it was, but it paralleled another situation. It was like a child who forgot to do their chores each week, their parents giving them the same speech over and over but with a different task that they'd failed to accomplish. That child had to have gotten fed up eventually, certainly, and the parent eventually wore tired of trying. If the child was prone to change or not differed between who it was to begin with. Though, some parents wouldn't give, and due to his personality, Nicholas was that parent. The single one that didn't expect change like the rest, that's why they gave up in the first place. Too many let downs. He didn't expect it, he only set it as a goal, thinking every time to be something like a build up to it, to perfection that was. He'd been working on something when Nicholas walked in, and that was also a parallel. The best was not good enough, so he worked on it. One could say the same for Nicholas- William was the best at what he did, but was it good enough was the question. Though, with a set mind and emotions it was a much more complicated process. One couldn't exactly take the other apart and make him better...Not without consequences, certainly, whatever those be. Reason enough, if paired up with his preference not to prick the other too much, to reword everything he was going to say. That also meant it was coming off the top of his head, turning out to be his own thoughts, not a mask of what he'd planned to say. And that on it's own could turn out very, very badly if he didn't watch what he said. The man could seem ignorant of what other's, no that was wrong, rather, how other might react to what he said. Only ever speaking his mind, but at least he'd usually time to think about it- not tonight though, no, and he could only hope that wouldn't cause too much of an issue. Filters be damned, he supposed, if only for those moments. This would be short, surely, they both knew how this went, and he would have rather not delayed it any longer than it already had been. If the other wasn't going to turn towards him, but surely he'd noticed him, then it would have to do for now "You let your emotion get the best of you."

 

[ROUX]

"Must be genetics. After all, I am pretty much destined to screw shit up," William retorted, his right ear twitching in slight irritation. After all, he had been waiting for the other to say something for about twenty seconds now, though to be honest it had felt like twenty minutes with all of his frazzled thinking. He sighed afterwards, his fingers cracking to move as he let the flame that had formerly been flickering die along with his own comfort, the feeling replaced by guilt the moment the words had come out of his own mouth. For all the things he'd been thinking moments ago, he couldn't help being defensive still, not even towards Nicholas. It was his natural disposition, his own mind tended to protect itself that way, by the disregard he gave situations and others if he felt at all threatened or uncomfortable. If he told them he didn't care, then by his logic, he himself would start to believe it it he said it enough. The frustrating problem was, if it came from someone he did respect, he couldn't lie to himself. He would try, oh yes he would try. But even though he might end up convincing him that he didn't care at all for whatever was trying to be shown to him and he really was the egotistical selfish heartless killer he sometimes had to remind himself he was not - he could never quite get himself to believe that he didn't care. Because if someone he loved cared about him enough to say something, than whatever it was must have been damn I important, and he would have done well to listen. Needless to say, at the top of the list of people that could make him feel this way was Nick, somewhere between his parents and his siblings. Always Nick, every damn time, even if those times were scarce. And he always, like now, knew the man was in the right to be discussing whatever matter he'd chosen with himself. Just like now, and it frustrated William to no end knowing that the only way he could explain himself would lead to family - the topic of family that is. Another truth he refused to let himself admit. He tricked himself into believing, or at least accepting, that his family was a problem that he should not think about not discuss, and SCORPIA's rules and regulations just made it easier to fall into that trap of acting on what he'd told himself. But the truth was, he needed to talk about it, had needed to talk about it to someone for so long, and it made him realize...no one really knew who he was. No one knew where he came from, what he could do - and William had to admit it scared him that he was starting to forget, to forget his own background, that he was sinking into this lie he'd been living...And his friends, he figured he would loose them if they ever did find out who he truly was. Of course, Kexius had an idea, but he hadn't said anything, probably for the same reason. That man was hiding from everyone just as William was, hiding in plain sight. The difference was, he supposed Kexius didn't have friends that were just as well considered family too - that's what they were, not by blood, but it'd been said more than once - that they were like brothers. And one of those so called brothers was questioning him now, and William didn't want to deal with it. And he would punish himself later for being such a coward, for not only living a lie, but not coming clean about the true, pure feelings he did have, half out of respect for his friends decisions, and half out of fear that he would loose Nicholas. So no, he didn't want to have an argument, or a lecture from someone who somehow knew him through and through - knew William better than the hybrid knew himself, but didn't know who he was destined to be, if he hadn't messed it all up, if he hadn't /run/. But then...what was there to be done?


His ears flattened against his head, tail flicking at the tip, dreading what he knew would come next, his grey eyes full to the brim with unspoken emotion, though his face did not betray him, only keeping that same nonchalant expression his demon father so often wore when he either didn't care about something, or was deliberately trying to instigate upon someone who depended upon reaction. So of course, William did what he was best at, and gave none but one - the flippant, blank attitude that was best described as empty complacency.

 

[BlueJae]

Nicholas couldn't help but feel the corners of his lips twitch, daring to frown at of irritation at the comment. He supposed he should've been used to that, seemed to be William's natural defense in the sorts of things either way, and the man didn't like letting that same irritation get the best of him. In fact, it normally didn't at all, and when it did it came in short bursts. Grateful, he supposed, is what he should've been for that. Short, yes, but sharp none the less. He had a habit of losing every filter he'd ever had or made during those times. However, he was trying not to let this be one of those times. Really, he was. He could handle this in a orderly fashion, it wasn't like he hadn't before. Little pricks, that's all it was. Little pricks like that very expression William was wearing right now, but, he should've been used to that, too. In fact, now that he was thinking about it he was pretty sure that this would play out like any other time, they were all the same- technically. Same experience, different argument. It might pile on, one day, but today simply wasn't that day. Nick knew how to assess this, sure, but then there was also the curiosity that seemed to linger on the other's words, but Nick;s own expression was the same it'd always been. He was an observer, really, learned from watching, and even if the other's expression held nothing of use for the moment he continued to watch him, at least while he spoke as he did "Genetics. Tricky things. Still, the solution that keeps us grouped with our family- though, could also be the problem." To be clear, at least to be clear with himself, he wasn't trying to tell William that his family was an issue no- no, rather, the problem was that William had some kind of issue with his family to begin with. Naturally that would've been a personal problem and maybe Nicholas might not have cared to much if only to respect William's rather reserved attitude towards the subject but...It wasn't so personal anymore. A bit of a thorn in the side, actually, on the off chance that someone might hear about it and what hell that would be if that same subject were to be not only brought up to them but as a public matter in general. He didn't want that, honestly, he doubted Wiliam did. In fact he doubted William wanted his family to be brought up in general, and maybe just a minute ago Nick had planned out everything he wanted to say- but, the normal routines were tiring, his curiosity was getting the best of him, and this was a much easier way to smooth over the bite of frustration that seemed to come the more he stared at that same, seemingly uncaring face on a matter that required attention and this time not just for the fact that yes, William probably shouldn't have done what he had, but rather to the fact that this was in fact a problem that may extend. How, if at all, would he act on it and when he did where would it go from there was the question. But he supposed that would all be something to be found out in due time. But that was then, and this was now, and Nick would've rather not wasted any time with the matter. Whether this went smoothly or not wasn't of concern at the moment, what was however what that this was taken care of. That was, after all, what he did in the first place. Took care of things, neatly or not.

 

[ROUX]

Will didn't have time for shocked pauses by the end of their conversation - and for once, even if he had, he would have drawn the same boiling conclusion that had resulted in the rage. The argument hadn't started off particularly well in the first place, and it had gone downhill fast, oddly enough. Most of their fights weren't as heated as this one, lest it be because they were arguing fickle points that didn't really matter in the long run, or because William just refused to argue or even talk at all, basically just ignoring everything that came his way. But this time, both of those circumstances didn't apply, and if anything came to be the exact opposite. The insults quickly became less subtle or vague, everything pointed like daggers of opinion back and forth, and since neither of them were letting the other see that these so-called-daggers had hurt or at least actually made their validity known, more and more reared their sharp edges. Things that shouldn't have been mentioned were being so viciously, no matter how they were delivered to the other person's knowledge. It didn't help that the two knew more about each other than anyone else, even if only /that/ was very little, but the fact was - all triggers were visible to exploit. And exploited they very much were, right up until the very end for the young Hybrid, who sufficiently had snapped by the time he started moving forward.


Mentioning Valentine hadn't been reflex at all. That had specifically been a jab at the other from William, and he didn't regret it even now. It had been an ongoing touchy subject between them, just something they had silently agreed not to mention for this reason alone, because every time the man /was/ brought up within a situation involving the two of them, they never saw eye to eye. He was simply Nicholas's friend, that's what his relation was, and unsurprisingly enough this was the /entire/ issue that the white haired assassin had with the topic in question. In this sort of job, you couldn't have friends, really. You weren't supposed to, it was looked down upon. Hell, William and Nicholas hadn't gotten along at all even when William had agreed to join the organization under the other's watchful eye. They were colleagues in the beginning, and nothing more than that, the only thing that could have been considered friendship between them was a mutual sort of thing - Henry had taken a liking to both of them, and the younger one was so strangely innocent for their line of work (nor to say he wasn't efficient at it) that it was hard to say no. From that point however, they had grown closer, if due to a few closely called missions, so be it. And also possibly to the fact that William had inexplicably fallen in /love/ with him from one point that he could clearly recall - any other time that right now that was. No, because right now, he was pissed. Living for so long being endlessly stuck being in-between things, William hated it when people tried to utilize both sides of the equation. Light and Dark, Good and Evil, Saints and /Sinners/ - they were opposites, would always /be/ opposites, and nothing but trouble happened when you mixed the two. It wasn't self pity that made William hate that he was a Hybrid. It was self /loathing/. And he took that literally to mean that /anything/ two-sided in life was too good to be true, and would eventually end in trouble no matter what way it was seen or by whom. Annoyingly so, even though he had tried to explain this, Nicholas shut him down every damn time on the topic...


Today, however, the tactic used to shut William up - or at least the one that he presumed had been meant to - didn't work in Nicholas's favor. Not on Will's watch. First the man had the nerve to question familial issues...fine. He would admit, he deserved that one. But now that Nicholas had shot back to it, and crossed way over the line, the Archangel hybrid couldn't contain his outrage if he had tried, and at this point in the game, he didn't even feel the need to do so. He flew across the room at quite an inhuman speed, leaving the chair he'd been sitting in still spinning as he had slammed Nicholas by the throat into the wall behind. His eyes burned white as his fangs were bared - both rows of them - and a completely inhuman and recognizably demonic growl ripped through his throat for the first time towards anyone he cared about in centuries. There was no patience, no thoughtfulness behind those eyes, as Will did not seek to understand at this point. No, he was more intent on getting his own point across, and since his personal space in terms of topics he dared not talk about had been penetrated, a side of him he'd kept down for so long roared to attention...literally.


"How. Dare. You. How dare you question my definition of loyalty, when you're running off with the fucking enemy," he snapped, the hand he had around Nicholas's neck's claws digging into the skin. Claws he wasn't even supposed to let out, and yet the white tips buried themselves in the flesh as he squeezed. "How dare you question my choices with my family- just because you wouldn't understand whatever the fuck issues you seem to think I have! You don't know me. You can't imagine the literal hell I've been through. I don't want to hear a thing about them again, ever from you!" He snarled once more. The heat surrounding his entire body now was the dangerous sort. His own fires were more powerful than any other any world could ever imagine, whether he knew it himself or not, and those flames were already surrounding him on his upper body, the blue flickering closer and closer to his fingers, some of them already touching Nick's skin, and where they did they burned the flesh immediately. And William was to angry to notice. Why was he angry? Because Nick had gotten close. So close to bringing up that part of himself that he hated...and now it was almost here. "You....you can't even see what you're doing to me. I wish you could. It doesn't matter, I see that now...whatever I do, I will always end up in the middle, end up nowhere, and you're no exception. Doesn't matter if I love you, you are driving me insane - !" He roared once more, and the heat engulfed him. Luckily for Nicholas, at that moment, the heat managed to trigger a certain reaction from inside his own brain...effectively sending a shock through his body. Before the flames could melt Nicholas's throat completely down to irreversible damage, William let go, jerking back as whatever else he was going to say was cut off, and he fell to the cold floor beneath him, the flames dying out as quick as they'd come as his body jerked unnaturally with each surge, blood pooling beneath his skull. He'd have looked completely dead if it wasn't for the twitching of his right hand's blood covered fingers...the still clearly clawed index and pointer moving with Nicholas's blood under the razor sharp nails. And if his 'cover' was blown? The man wouldn't remember at all. He wouldn't remember any of this. Not what he'd said or done...but that didn't mean it'd go away. As for the light, the burning light in his eyes? That too was gone.

 

[BlueJae]

It'd been a long while, such a long while, since the man had felt fear. A dreadful emotion that he'd long since learned to push aside for the sake of survival, something he hadn't experienced since he was nothing but a child out on his own. This was not to say, however, that the emotion was beyond his sense of feeling- this was a fine example, a much loathed reminder that it wasn't. He was simply scared, the man had been terrified, something that he wouldn't have admitted, not even to himself despite the undeniable factor and overwhelming feeling. Terrified and in pain, immense pain, while he slowly slid down the wall with his own hands now wrapped around his neck while he realized slowly that he couldn't breath. Though his own body was trying to fix that for him as quickly and best it could it couldn't seem to calm his own nerves down, he couldn't do it himself either. His sense of mind was gone, completely wracked down to the point where he was shaking whether he'd noticed it or not. Be it because of the disgusting smell of burnt flesh that was wavering into his nose, the pain that was coming from that same wound, or something else. For the moment, the Nicholas looked like he was trying to choke himself though the reality of it was he was trying to comprehend the fact that half if not almost all of his neck was nothing but a smoldering pile of liquid like skin and boiling blood, seemed his body was also trying to do the same thing. Each repair that was made almost seemed questioning, or maybe that was just his head talking. Either was just as likely, but when he could breath again it burned. Each uneven breath burned until his body had taken up cooling itself down, and even by that time Nicholas still hadn't taken his hands off his neck, rather did move at all. When he did, of course, it was to curl his legs on either side of him. That in mind, he hadn't noticed how hard he'd been holding on until he finally pried his hands off his neck and if he could've seen it he would've noticed the faintly red marking that he'd left from his own grip. It was about then that a rather painful coughing fit hit him, making each chest movement a regretful one. His eyes had trailed over to William, the first thought passing through his mind was that he needed to get Henry. This was not something he could continue to dawdle around over, and while that wasn't particularly what he'd been doing he shoved the thought in his head long enough to bring himself up and dust the rubble of the now dented wall. It had never really occurred to him how off he looked, his stance was completely wrong, his head was tilted down rather than up and his cane was missing, left behind more like it. It hadn't crossed his mind, no not yet, why he'd reacted the way he did but the idea of it was simple. He'd the same occurrence once before, but that was something he shoved too far down in the corners of his mind to even begin to recollect- and yet, the similarities of the situations were stunning evidence. But the man was stuck in between not wanting to connect the dots and particularly denying everything that he'd just experienced- and in the end, who would know, really? Who'd ever recall other than he, and even he didn't have to if he didn't want to. So really, at the end of the day, it was so easily forgotten. Never did cross his mind that things were easier said than done, on the other hand not much had crossed his mind to begin with. He'd still the mind that this needed to be fixed, or in the end the whole point of it all would've have gotten them to the same place that it would've if they wouldn't have taken experimentation over extermination. Funny how those things worked, because here he was, with Kex's own words ringing in his head, a fine example laid out for him- and there he went, ignoring it all.


The man wasn't sure how many minutes had passed, but he could've told you how many seconds had gone by. Which, could've resulted in actually figuring the first problem out, but, he was too busy counting every time the clock had made it's ticking noise to signify another moment slipping past them. He needed preoccupation, and that was all he could take up for the moment as he sat- most of the way off the bed if not taking up only a couple inches of it off to the side as he stared at the floor. Watchmen duty, that was the best way he could describe the task he'd been given. So there he was, counting each moment that went by until the other either moved or actually woke up into a more conscious state. Which, undoubtedly, was something to anticipate for multiple reasons but the real concern was the effect all the drugs would have on him. In the mean time, Nicholas was on his two thousand five hundred twentieth second, in counting mind anyone. Course, had anyone else been questioning his reasoning needn't they worry, for he was too. But, the minute Henry had left the room the man had found himself listening to the ticking of the clock. He'd needed focus, or rather something to focus on, if only not to delve back into a less desirable thought process. His neck had completely healed itself and breathing as a whole no longer burned as if he'd actually swallowed fire, and, more fortunately for him all shaking had stopped. But, until further notice, he was left with his right foot tapping to an unknown beat while his ears twitched every now and then, in a constant wait for William to move or make a noise that would drag him out of his self caused trance.

 

[ROUX]

William was floating.

​

He felt as light as a feather, and funny enough how that was without actually using his own wings, though those were featherless indeed. He wasn't sure how he felt about that really, the floating he meant, and it wasn't all together unpleasant, simply very odd. It reminded him of something a bit more familiar however - when he had first learned to fly on his own. Yes, that was an odd feeling too, but it had quickly changed to exhilarating, though the few seconds it was came to an and when he had fallen. Michael had been there, and he had caught the boy. The man who'd literally been a mother to him had been there to catch him...and the Archangel had been laughing, so proud, as was his husband, looking on at them both, even though William himself had been too busy clinging to the fabric of the shirt in wonder, trying to catch his breath after the excitement of it all. Of the few seconds he'd been above everyone and everything, looking over it, the beauty he found in his once called home and the added perfection of his parent's and sibling's joyous faces. The boy he'd been had wondered what it would be like to recreate that one day, not only to paint it as a precious memory, but to emotionally and physically share it with someone else. Of course then, moments after thinking it he'd begun trying to jump up again, to chase his older sisters through the air...but that wasn't the even of the moment, it never was. He kept coming back to it, even after actually painting it once, and he still had the picture. He'd wondered when and if that would ever happen....if he would ever felt like he would belong with people that same way ever again, or if he'd truly screwed it up for himself. The hybrid had been ready to give up on everything in that dream when he'd massacred all of those people, lost control of his own being that he to this day still didn't understand. And then there was Nicholas...who again, had saved him, another point he couldn't help but roam over in his head time and time after. That day, the other man had the face of an angel, even more than he himself. William had painted that too, not that he'd ever say a word about it. He never wanted to forget. He didn't want to loose hope for that too.


~ It's him, isn't it. ~


Even now, when he was floating aimlessly through what he realized to be his own mind, nothing but black space all around him. He would have moved at the sound, but couldn't see, couldn't feel - until the lights, the fire made itself known. Out of the black there came the burning, but floating mass, it's entirety flickering with a beautiful orange and red, something so enticing yet full of warning at the damage and destruction William knew it could cause. It was unmistakably hellfyre, what with the way it seemed to live and breathe though being only what it was, like a vengeful soul who'd lost it's way, only to take it out on whatever it could touch - and keep it's elegant shape and form only to spread over that it had conquered. William could feel it's heat, though there did not seem to be rage beyond the one boiling beneath the surface, far from what could be directed at himself. And then as the fire drew closer, he heard it speak to him once more.


~ When you saw his face, you knew. We knew... ~


"...that he would be the one to live that moment with, my memory..." William felt his lips moving naturally, instinctively, so fluid that he wasn't even sure if what he'd said had been under his own control had what had been said not been true. But it was, and another question was on his lips almost immediately after, simply asked now out of a different reflex, one of his own doing, of his own suspicion about his own thoughts and what could have been lurking there. "Who are you?"


The thing chuckled, if that was what it was, or at least that's what it seemed to do. And it moved until it floated just in front of him now, fire flickering brightly still, as it replied with a clearly now amused and yet so pointed tone of voice. ~ You know who I am, William...you created me. I am you, you are me, as much as you'd like to deny. You need me, always, and you certainly need me now...don't you? ~


And it was true. William knew it was true, because when he looked down at himself - well, he wasn't really. Because there was nothing but flame...white flame...and those white flames that happened to flicker out a bit more from time to time and reach the opposite red ones resulting in the blue sparks, visible for a second or so. As for what had been mentioned by...himself...after, realizations hit him hard. "What have I..." he didn't even finish as the emotions rushed to him, the horror and regret the guilt of what he'd done to the one both parts of him loved so deeply. It was overwhelming, and horrifyingly foreshadowing in a sense, that if he didn't figure out a way to stop this, to hide this, it would happen again. If he'd been in his actual body, he would have probably tried to destroy the room around him in frustration quite honestly. And that was another thing he was afraid of, but of course, before he could actually say anything to that, the annoyance of his own voice brought it out again...although this time, it was strangely frustrated.


~ You hurt him. And you hate yourself for it...honestly, we both know you cant handle that right now. You haven't told him, you haven't told anyone about your powers, and they're growing stronger every day. I can't keep trying to hide this! You give me your frustration, you rage, your anger and most of the time your guilt, and that would have been OK. I said I would keep...keep that terrible day from happening again, anywhere else. But that was on the word you gave, you said you would find a way to let go of this, or learn to control it! You need to tell him. You need to tell him before you kill him, and it's too damn late. Then where will we be...? You know, for as much as we supposedly stay angered at our Archdemon father...we act a lot like him. It's the same mistakes. And you know if you slip up, William, and you let me out...? Things will burn, they will burn. Not because we are monsters, but- I hold all of your sin. And I love our world just as much as you do...but because you deny me and my existence, whether you know it or not, you give me no good. You refuse to have a balance - ~


"There is no balance! There is no middle ground, dammit, just good - and evil! You are not me. You are not me, you are the demon here...you are Arson!" He growled, yelling now, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of something he knew wasn't true. And the named Arson was having none of it, though the voice was still deadly calm, but deep rooted rage - their own rage - fueled the fire still.


~ Yes, William, there may be good, and there may be evil. But you are tearing yourself apart with this, building up one side and not being truthful at all with the other...you're living a lie. And if you are a lie, and I am the truth you hide - if you are no longer pure yourself, if you ever were...where does that leave us? ~ Arson countered, and when his other self had no answer, he sighed. ~I will not make you remember. But you need...you need to find a way on your own...to accept me, and fix this. If I take away your guilt for doing what you did, and the anger at yourself for doing so, you must come to terms with what you are, what we are, and what we are capable of. Only when you accept yourself and your mistakes, will you cease from making them. Do not let me...destroy us...not when I saved you up until the time I will not. Because then? We won't have a second chance. ~


As the fires faded, and the emotions he could feel being drained from himself slowly, disappearing with the red fire itself as promised, William grasped onto one strange thing. That he needed to fix...he needed to be fixed...and it was echoing the words Nicholas had said to him before he had lost it. But how? How was he to fix what he didn't know was there? It seemed to be something he did indeed have to find with his own mind, with his own heart, unless that was where the danger was. Dealing with this all himself, bottling his emotions, living like a ticking time bomb for others he cared about so much but couldn't bear to tell they were all in danger. But the harder the man tried to figure it out, the more the thoughts, the feelings, they were out of his grasp. And when the last one did disappear, the only thing he could say - or remember to say - were the two words that left his lips in the world of the living. And his eyes hadn't even opened with he said them, he had no clue that the man he needed to say this to was near him, but the urge was there alone to have something that could possibly bring him back to dig up what he'd hidden from himself.

"...I'm sorry..."

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