AM (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
godofthemachine) wrote2018-10-22 08:27 pm
godofthemachine) wrote2018-10-22 08:27 pmDuplicity IC Inbox
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VOICE | TEXT | ACTION
VOICE | TEXT | ACTION
godofthemachine) wrote2018-10-22 08:27 pm
un: LCerberus -> action;
[...What the hell is with the animosity; you were the one who no-showed last time.
That said, it's -- with a huff half through his teeth and narrow eyes that he lowers his device. Takes off... back into momentum to stalk his way on to the park. Shoulders hunched and limbs swayin' heavy - a momentary shake of his head, let's get this shit over with...
AM may or may not spot Lucas walkin' the dingy trails before Lucas spots him first, and if he does, he may or may not recognize him - skinny figure, average-to-tall height in baggy battered jeans and a just-as-baggy, just-as-battered hoodie, hands in pockets.
Ain't gonna be too long before the connection's made, however, when Lucas stops not too far off. Looks up, flits glances among the park's dingy benches and dead-ass trees with a look on his face and indignant snap to his moves like he's lookin' for whatever skunk's smell he just picked up on a breeze.
For a moment, though! When his eyes fall on AM, his eyes round and he momentarily rocks his weight back, ohhhhh...!
That's the guy, ain't too many fellas who look like that around here...!
...Fan-fucking-tastic...
Eyelids half drop and he redirects and speeds up his stalkin' and trudgin' over to the bench. 'Bout ten feet away, starts to slow, 'n with a voice like a cross between a sick mountain lion and a crow and one brief boost of his brow on the emphasis:]
AM -- right -- ?!
[...Well, no, Lucas. You said it like "ay-em".
Finally stopping fully with a slow tip onto one leg. A kick of his shoe errantly - li'l one-two scrape of the sole on the ground before he rocks back onto that leg, too, lettin' his stance even out.
...Begins tossin' his head into a few shakes. Drawl and emphasis pickin' up in curve lifted a touch higher on an updraft, despite the remaining... curdle and rustiness. Filtering tart 'n nasal toward the end.
...Iiii'm gonna lay down some ground rules...!
[Ending with a loll of his head tipped.
...That said, ground rules for... what...]
no subject
Yes. AM. [He emphasizes the pronunciation slightly, keeping it to one syllable.] And I assume you're Lucas.
[But immediately this stupid boy is going about staking his claim, as if he's in charge. And true, Lucas could probably choose from several other dominants who would abide by these "ground rules" and treat him better, so it's like a free market. If AM wants to sell to this customer, he'll have to beat the competition.
But the question is, does he really want to take on this idiot? Hiling is already somewhat of a handful in some ways, though she is compliant. But she already ran her mouth to Jonathan, and now Jonathan is out for his blood. (Of course, the whole Patara incident might have to do with that as well.)
Maybe his idea of having several obedient slaves was just that - a dumb idea. A fantasy. AM certainly hopes he won't regret this. But nonetheless, he remains stoic, hands neatly pressed against his thighs, eyes somewhat neutral as they gaze up from his seated position.]
Yes? What are your ground rules?
no subject
(Never mind that, you know. To any reasonable person, all bets in how a person corrects you are off when you blatantly pronounce their name wrong.
The look on his face remains hard - a disinterest in humoring keeping his eyes just barely off of AM's - as he straightens his stance a bit. The slightest turn up of his chin - all a' this, something AM may or may not recognize as all the more proud animal bravado - as he with draws both hands from his hoodie pockets.
His tone floats in a high, airy-yet-keen semi-melody. Drawl continuing to cruise. Makes a fist with his right hand in front of his solar plexus.]
Rule... number one...!
[And bops a second fist on top of it on "one". The "r" in "number" disappears to his accent.
He lifts a brow and... that side of his head wholesale, eyes stayin' and widening on AM, as with a long, steady, arcing kick into the air, he turns himself into pacing.
Each subsequent step following in a similar long-striding suit. All sounds remaining long, and high-cruising, and cadenced.]
...I wanna make it clear that I don't belong -- [Shakin' his head, post another disappeared "r".] -- to nobody but ME -- ...!
[That last bit, in time with one more crunch of ground under a step, accompanied by a further widening in his eyes and a "thump" of a palm against his hoodie, and a further tug in the side of his mouth. Honestly... undecided between a so ha-ha! smirk and a sneer.
These sounds each ridin' a more... vivid, tremulous mid-tempo line.]
-- Ya doooon't -- get to tell me WHERE -- ! [With that one word ridin' more of an up-sweep.] -- HhhhhIIII can and can't go and wheeen!
[Those last few words pickin' their lofty-if-just-obstructed melody back up.
He shakes his head again, momentarily looking at the ground with a knitting brow and his head hangin' low as if he's... tryin'a get these next words quite together as he swings a pivot to begin pacing the other way. Stepping into the reversal with a particularly heavy stomp and brief slowdown. The hand on his chest coming up, fingers in a "V".
Eyes wide and on AM again.]
-- Rule number two!
[...Nnnnoooooow a grin drawing itself onto his face, blank but for a little of that restored hardness, as he shakes his head again. A slight... scratch? Burble? Into the delivery of this next? As he winds it in.]
...IIIIIIII ain't takin' it off for any other men!
[An extra... pull-up in that.
That means you.]
The REST -- ?
[He smacks those fists together one-on-top-of-the-other again with an "MMMM -- ...!" like he's just been socked in the gut. Arcs his stance higher again.]
IIII reckon we can come into an ARRANGEMENT or two...!
["Tewwwww"...!
Another kick-to-pivot, this one halfway, to face AM dead-on. Blue eyes pale and blank. Teeth locked in their big ol' skeleton smile.
Before both sag.
That tension entering his face again on the edge of a snarl. One fist still on top of the other as he shakes his head again, voice both nasal and rushin' wind.]
-- But there's only so much I'm willin' to budge on...!
[Aaaand he...
...fully intends to finagle more out of any deals that might be made.
At the very least, however? This should... tell AM one thing beyond a shadow of doubt: this "stupid boy" who thinks he's in position to haggle did, in fact, come in here with full intention of arranging a contract.
'Fact, who knows - he may be too sure of himself on even this front.]
no subject
It's mostly just a man trying to establish control, as if he's the dominant here. As if he thinks he can. It's sad; AM feels as if this status that was promised to him upon awakening here was all a big fat lie. No, of course humans would rebel against it, but AM should have his abilities. He should have all that he was built to do. But now he has to simply sit here and take it or die.]
All right, Lucas. Now, before we go on, tell me how exactly this arrangement would benefit me.
[Because really, AM is not seeing any good parts of this so far.]
no subject
He ain't giving an inch. As AM makes that look, he holds his, too. Corner of his smile gradually, faintly ticking up bit at a time. A faint scrunch and tension at the very meeting point of lines between the bent bridge of his nose and each brow. As if to laugh into a snarrrrrl.
That... not quite blanks so much as weights, on AM's next bit. A flat, dead look as the grin falls and warps on one side into a grimace - ohh, fuck you, you're here to save my ass -- !
He dispels that, however, with another soundful THUMP! of the top fist on the lower and a widening full of ghost-pale eyes - swingin' and pivoting another step back into his pacing. Steps higher than previously, in an absent dance.
He ain't smiling, but... his voice automatically hits a lilt as his eyes roll skyward.]
Let's put it THIS way -- !
[In between long, metered, half-swayin' strides...! A hint of a grin finally tuggin' its way back on his face again. Mouth-only. Still manic eyed. Voice hits a couple a' rusty cracks.]
...Ya know how you were wonderin' about aaall the ways I like to live on the edge...?
[As he finishes that last sound, he... rocks into another step, and then to a stop as his weight plants. Turning his face back to AM as if he was just caught in the middle of a gasp.
...Which, in short order, steam-presses back into narrow eyes 'n narrow, high-curved grinning. She shakes his head again - it wanders upward, his brow lifting a couple a' seconds at the move's very peak...!]
...Huh -- ...
[Thinner, sludgier trickling...]
-- Well, theeere ain't much I won't do -- ...!
[A little of an additional sloshy husk, as the grin curls... higher.
Increasingly implike.]
... -- So long as the price is right -- ...!
[Snickers, and then, fuller-throated, eyes poppin' wide again.]
-- Thaaaat or so long as I don't get BUSTED -- !
no subject
But at the same time, he needs a submissive who will protect and defend him if something goes awry. Hiling had failed (even if that wasn't her fault, he will still blame her), and he's not sure he can trust that Lucas would be any better. The question of sex has already been put on the table and firmly denied, which for AM is quite a blow
(pun not intended), but not surprising. He could coax him into it later, perhaps, through the power of manipulation.He stares back at Lucas, running through the options in his head. This is a job interview, in essence. And both sides of an interview have to convince the other "you need me more than I need you." That's what AM will have to do... if it's worth it.]
Let me ask you something, Lucas.
[He crosses his legs on the bench, a hand coming to stroke his chin. Fine hairs have dotted the area, the makings of a subtle five-o'clock shadow. His paranoia and fear have made him neglect certain portions of his hygiene, it seems.]
Why do you want me to be your dominant?