I'm telling you, I'm of no use to you. Why bother? My skillset is no different than that of an Elementalist -- worse, in fact, considering I need to draw from a pool of energy that can be quickly sapped.
Perhaps, but I get the feeling there’s more you’re not telling me. And perhaps I just want to see the looks on their faces when they realize they’ve lost you to me.
[ He remembers, of course, the way his own heart had broken when he realized he'd lost Charlie -- the way the Venatori had danced on the pieces when he found him again, warped and twisted and hateful.
His breathing starts to pick up, shallow and quick. His mind races for a solution, a way out, anything.
He draws a blank. ]
It won't work, whatever you have planned. [ Bluffing it is, then, hiding his panic with anger. ] Save the both of us the trouble.
[ Normally that little show of defiance would be impressive, but it gets on Warren’s nerves almost instantly. His expression instantly goes cold, angry, and he steps up to the bars. ]
Is this all we're going to do? Threaten back and forth? You, with mind control or binding my will or whatever fanciful nonsense you've got in your head. Me, with the ever efficient promise of certain violence.
I'd rather you killed me, please, if we're going to keep up like this.
[ Warren glares at him for a very long moment- the kind of glare the promises unspeakable things. ]
Get comfortable, Dorian. You're going to be here a while.
[ With that, Warren turns on his heel and leaves.
He does not come back for two days.
Aside from wanting to make Dorian squirm, he's off tracking down an Illusionist contact of his- a gentleman who works on the the fringes of wizarding society with a knack for altering peoples' minds. Warren tries to use his services sparingly since they don't come cheap.
He comes to his contact with a simple list of things: I want him to love me, I want him to do as I say, and I want you to tone down that goddamned attitude of his.
Because even if what Dorian says is true, and he can't do more than throwing fire and ice around, he wants Jacob Randall and his ilk to suffer knowing that he took Dorian right out from under them, and that he now belongs completely to Warren.
And if the procedure doesn't take or kills him? Oh well. It was worth a try.
So it's after two long days that Warren pads back into the basement, with a short, slimy-looking balding man. ] You're still alive down here, I hope.
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[ He heaves a sigh, pushing himself away from the table to stand. ] Thank you, Dorian. You’ve been very helpful, if not entirely cooperative.
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What do you mean, "the hard way"?
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The former would have been much easier.
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Don't.
[ it's the first thing out of his mouth, and he wants so very badly to panic, but he keeps it at bay by sheer force of will alone. ]
Whatever you're thinking of doing, don't.
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"Oh, what's this? A new trick? Let's simply control the performer and hope he doesn't completely go mad."
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I can conjure a bit of flame and ice. [ well, truthfully, he can do far more that that. ] What do you expect to do with that?
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His breathing starts to pick up, shallow and quick. His mind races for a solution, a way out, anything.
He draws a blank. ]
It won't work, whatever you have planned. [ Bluffing it is, then, hiding his panic with anger. ] Save the both of us the trouble.
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[ how's that for panic ]
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With what?
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I'd rather you killed me, please, if we're going to keep up like this.
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Get comfortable, Dorian. You're going to be here a while.
[ With that, Warren turns on his heel and leaves.
He does not come back for two days.
Aside from wanting to make Dorian squirm, he's off tracking down an Illusionist contact of his- a gentleman who works on the the fringes of wizarding society with a knack for altering peoples' minds. Warren tries to use his services sparingly since they don't come cheap.
He comes to his contact with a simple list of things: I want him to love me, I want him to do as I say, and I want you to tone down that goddamned attitude of his.
Because even if what Dorian says is true, and he can't do more than throwing fire and ice around, he wants Jacob Randall and his ilk to suffer knowing that he took Dorian right out from under them, and that he now belongs completely to Warren.
And if the procedure doesn't take or kills him? Oh well. It was worth a try.
So it's after two long days that Warren pads back into the basement, with a short, slimy-looking balding man. ] You're still alive down here, I hope.
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