[There was no being hunted, there was no fighting to escape and survive yet his heart continued to hammer away and his pulse raced; a cold squeezing grip upon him that wouldn’t relent and a sense of looming dread and impending doom continued to hound him.
He wasn’t used to such a sensation. He didn’t like it. Didn’t like the lack of control he felt in his surroundings or himself. Didn’t like this dull ache that pulled at him every time Sebastian said his name or the general tone he used. It made him feel even less in control than he already was.
His eyes switched back and forth between the two men as he scowled his discontent.]
Stop. Moving. [He barked out as the dark haired man continued to slowly approach as he stepped back once more, very little room left between him and the end of the line. Once more he cast his attention over towards Finnick who apparently had the will of the gods despite his obvious loathing of the Remnant which only caused Yazoo to glare darkly at him when he refused to attack.]
Useless. [He cursed. The one time Yazoo thought he could count on someone’s natural animosity towards him to be helpful and the man has to damn well have decent control of himself. Typical.
His eyes shifted back to Sebastian’s. he couldn’t tell what was in his own eyes; Hatred? Fear? Confusion? Pain? Longing? Some strange combination of all of that and more? He just wanted this whole thing to end. To be allowed to leave, to find his brother before the city was laid to waste. Sebastian was clearly fine now, confused probably if he thought Yazoo was somehow still under the strange curse of this place but he was alive and intact and that was good enough for him to know, for now.]
You kept your word. Good for you. Now you’re free of it and if you have a trace of sense in that pretty head of yours, you’ll leave because this place doesn’t forgot or forgive.
Third times the charm though, isn’t it? Then again, misfortunes come in threes as well. Maybe that’s why I like that number so much. It has a nice solid feeling to it; a weight and purpose. I’m a third. Did you know that? No, probably not. How could you when I didn’t even know myself then. Third brother. Third son. Third of a person.
That part is the messy part. The part that made it easy to forget myself. There’s not enough there to be a real person like you or him. Just a tool for war. The third in a set. Be smart and walk away before I have to kill you because I will. I will kill you stone dead if you make me. I don’t want to but I am not losing myself again. Not here and not to you. Not again.
[The gun trembled ever so slightly as he pulled back the hammer to emphasis his point. They just needed to walk away and hope that whatever god-machine was in charge of this funhouse from hell decided that they did their parts well enough not to retaliate upon them for it. He could find a way out afterwards to reunit properly but not here in this miserable place. He won’t provide anymore entertainment to the city beyond like that.]
no subject
He wasn’t used to such a sensation. He didn’t like it. Didn’t like the lack of control he felt in his surroundings or himself. Didn’t like this dull ache that pulled at him every time Sebastian said his name or the general tone he used. It made him feel even less in control than he already was.
His eyes switched back and forth between the two men as he scowled his discontent.]
Stop. Moving. [He barked out as the dark haired man continued to slowly approach as he stepped back once more, very little room left between him and the end of the line. Once more he cast his attention over towards Finnick who apparently had the will of the gods despite his obvious loathing of the Remnant which only caused Yazoo to glare darkly at him when he refused to attack.]
Useless. [He cursed. The one time Yazoo thought he could count on someone’s natural animosity towards him to be helpful and the man has to damn well have decent control of himself. Typical.
His eyes shifted back to Sebastian’s. he couldn’t tell what was in his own eyes; Hatred? Fear? Confusion? Pain? Longing? Some strange combination of all of that and more? He just wanted this whole thing to end. To be allowed to leave, to find his brother before the city was laid to waste. Sebastian was clearly fine now, confused probably if he thought Yazoo was somehow still under the strange curse of this place but he was alive and intact and that was good enough for him to know, for now.]
You kept your word. Good for you. Now you’re free of it and if you have a trace of sense in that pretty head of yours, you’ll leave because this place doesn’t forgot or forgive.
Third times the charm though, isn’t it? Then again, misfortunes come in threes as well. Maybe that’s why I like that number so much. It has a nice solid feeling to it; a weight and purpose. I’m a third. Did you know that? No, probably not. How could you when I didn’t even know myself then. Third brother. Third son. Third of a person.
That part is the messy part. The part that made it easy to forget myself. There’s not enough there to be a real person like you or him. Just a tool for war. The third in a set. Be smart and walk away before I have to kill you because I will. I will kill you stone dead if you make me. I don’t want to but I am not losing myself again. Not here and not to you. Not again.
[The gun trembled ever so slightly as he pulled back the hammer to emphasis his point. They just needed to walk away and hope that whatever god-machine was in charge of this funhouse from hell decided that they did their parts well enough not to retaliate upon them for it. He could find a way out afterwards to reunit properly but not here in this miserable place. He won’t provide anymore entertainment to the city beyond like that.]