[But there's approval in his voice. It is gross—beheading and disemboweling don't cater to his very specific tastes—but he appreciates the visual nonetheless. It's fittingly brutal.
He does like the sound of Isabela, though. Death by a thousand cuts is a more exciting tactic to him than one big showstopper. He prefers to draw it out, make a game of it. especially if the other guy was trying to kill him first. He imagines there's a special sort of satisfaction in that, bleeding someone out not just because he could, but because he won. And right there in the open too, a murder that he wouldn't have to sweep under the rug.
That's an interesting thought, too: Getting to show off like that. Killing with an audience has never been of interest to him, but he does like the thought of someone getting to witness glimpses of it, the moments he's proud of, his version of Isabela's three-part finishing move. Evisceration may not be his style, but god, what must it feel like? Tearing a knife through a body is more difficult than you might think, especially with muscles and tendons getting in the way. Slicing someone up like that takes effort, and he can't help but replay the image of her slashing through a body in three quick, elegant motions over and over again in his head.
He lies back on his own bed. Normally he'd opt for speakerphone, but he likes the closeness of Fenris' voice in his ear for something like this.]
She's got the right idea when it comes to foreplay. Tell me you didn't fuck right there on the street.
She wished to. And I will not say I didn't consider it. But Bela is best savored, and fucking her against an alley wall wouldn't let me take her apart inch by inch.
[His voice dips a little lower. Not on purpose, not the way he does sometimes when he wants to menace people, but naturally.]
We began in the hallway. She was particularly good at removing my armor; she was adept, too, in getting me exactly how she wanted me. By the time I had regained my senses she'd had my sword off, my breastplate . . . not my gauntlets, though. They still had blood on them— she still had blood on her— and she enjoyed how sharp they were. She liked to feel them digging into her skin— not quite slicing her to ribbons, but pinpricks of pain. The tip of one claw dragging over her throat . . . she enjoyed the danger of it, I think. The threat of knowing I could slice her throat open, and, further, had the nerve to do so.
That the only thing standing between her and that was my goodwill and affection for her . . . she enjoyed living dangerously like that.
[That, and she was not nearly so helpless. If he had gone dark, he knows for a fact she would have snapped his neck long before he could truly hurt her. A thought occurs to him, and he adds:]
You might enjoy such a thing, yourself. You complain about them often enough, but I think you would like it if I had you at my mercy like that. Your throat bared and all of you wondering if I would decide to exert just a little pressure and draw blood . . .
Or is it that you'd only enjoy it if I was at your mercy?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[But there's approval in his voice. It is gross—beheading and disemboweling don't cater to his very specific tastes—but he appreciates the visual nonetheless. It's fittingly brutal.
He does like the sound of Isabela, though. Death by a thousand cuts is a more exciting tactic to him than one big showstopper. He prefers to draw it out, make a game of it. especially if the other guy was trying to kill him first. He imagines there's a special sort of satisfaction in that, bleeding someone out not just because he could, but because he won. And right there in the open too, a murder that he wouldn't have to sweep under the rug.
That's an interesting thought, too: Getting to show off like that. Killing with an audience has never been of interest to him, but he does like the thought of someone getting to witness glimpses of it, the moments he's proud of, his version of Isabela's three-part finishing move. Evisceration may not be his style, but god, what must it feel like? Tearing a knife through a body is more difficult than you might think, especially with muscles and tendons getting in the way. Slicing someone up like that takes effort, and he can't help but replay the image of her slashing through a body in three quick, elegant motions over and over again in his head.
He lies back on his own bed. Normally he'd opt for speakerphone, but he likes the closeness of Fenris' voice in his ear for something like this.]
She's got the right idea when it comes to foreplay. Tell me you didn't fuck right there on the street.
no subject
She wished to. And I will not say I didn't consider it. But Bela is best savored, and fucking her against an alley wall wouldn't let me take her apart inch by inch.
[His voice dips a little lower. Not on purpose, not the way he does sometimes when he wants to menace people, but naturally.]
We began in the hallway. She was particularly good at removing my armor; she was adept, too, in getting me exactly how she wanted me. By the time I had regained my senses she'd had my sword off, my breastplate . . . not my gauntlets, though. They still had blood on them— she still had blood on her— and she enjoyed how sharp they were. She liked to feel them digging into her skin— not quite slicing her to ribbons, but pinpricks of pain. The tip of one claw dragging over her throat . . . she enjoyed the danger of it, I think. The threat of knowing I could slice her throat open, and, further, had the nerve to do so.
That the only thing standing between her and that was my goodwill and affection for her . . . she enjoyed living dangerously like that.
[That, and she was not nearly so helpless. If he had gone dark, he knows for a fact she would have snapped his neck long before he could truly hurt her. A thought occurs to him, and he adds:]
You might enjoy such a thing, yourself. You complain about them often enough, but I think you would like it if I had you at my mercy like that. Your throat bared and all of you wondering if I would decide to exert just a little pressure and draw blood . . .
Or is it that you'd only enjoy it if I was at your mercy?