And why would I kill what's mine, dear pet? [ Lucius' grin only widens as those hands push uselessly at his shoulders, because, of course, the answer to his own question is obvious. What matters is that he won't grow tired of Eridanus, whatever childish state he has been reduced to. As if it were the batting of an infant, Lucius ignores the hand that shoves at his shoulder, his own fingers instead curling themselves within a loose lock of his companion's hair. ]
Very well. Fair is fair, as they say! [ His crowing voice swells into a laugh, as though Eridanus had asked him something funny. The fingers winding his hair draw tighter, holding him like an animal on a leash. ] My brothers once named me Lucius the Eternal, and that is the name the galaxy has whispered in fear and reverence for ten millennia since. You see, boy, I am the chosen Champion of the Lord of Ecstasy Himself — the Youngest God, and the only bidding He asks of me is that I slake my dark desires however I see fit. I have sailed the stars for eleven-thousand years, killing men and razing civilizations whole as it suits me — and in those long millennia, I have tasted the pleasures of more lives taken and more worlds left in ash than either of us would care to count.
[ As he speaks, his gleaming eyes bulge, fanaticism transforming the sadistic humor of his expression into something else entirely. It carries his words from him in a torrent—and yet, their ebb and flow is that of a virtuoso's melody, the weight and clarity of every note sweeping the ear implacably toward that final crescendo. Its a climax that leaves Lucius' breath light in his own throat, and as the final word hangs in the cloistered air between their mouths, it flutters hot against the youthful face before his own.
And then, just as swiftly as it had overtaken him, his mania disappears. As he opens his mouth again, once more, he speaks in tones of breezy insouciance. ]
So, as you can see, I tower high above any one lord of any single world. You ought to consider yourself lucky — there are devotees out there eager to suffer any debasement for the privilege of calling themselves the Eternal's pet.
[As this man—Lucius, as Eridanus will soon come to know—speaks, the viridescent eyes that glow beneath that face that tightens with growing zeal, blow wide. It's reminiscent of the demonic cultists that have begun to plague Vathea, he thinks. The stories of their bulging eyes and their manic grins that spread ear-to-ear, as they dance and prostrate themselves before the ones they would worship as gods, filter through his skull and quicken his heart. This man is dangerous, he thinks to himself, and though that single thought could excite him on its own—combined with what he knows, what he's heard of, he feels fear more than anything.
What could a man, who claims himself to be a Champion of the Lord of Ecstasy, want with him? A fledgling mage, not even a weapon of power just yet—a little lord, only with title and none of the power. He's nothing so much as a pretty face to look at, as he is now. So as the silence grows fat between them, and the rumble of that feline purr vibrates against his own breast, Eridanus can only swallow down his trepidation.]
Such an accomplished man, [he exhales, his breath barely above a whisper as he tries to keep the trembling of his form out of his tone,] what could you ever want from one such as me, then?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Very well. Fair is fair, as they say! [ His crowing voice swells into a laugh, as though Eridanus had asked him something funny. The fingers winding his hair draw tighter, holding him like an animal on a leash. ] My brothers once named me Lucius the Eternal, and that is the name the galaxy has whispered in fear and reverence for ten millennia since. You see, boy, I am the chosen Champion of the Lord of Ecstasy Himself — the Youngest God, and the only bidding He asks of me is that I slake my dark desires however I see fit. I have sailed the stars for eleven-thousand years, killing men and razing civilizations whole as it suits me — and in those long millennia, I have tasted the pleasures of more lives taken and more worlds left in ash than either of us would care to count.
[ As he speaks, his gleaming eyes bulge, fanaticism transforming the sadistic humor of his expression into something else entirely. It carries his words from him in a torrent—and yet, their ebb and flow is that of a virtuoso's melody, the weight and clarity of every note sweeping the ear implacably toward that final crescendo. Its a climax that leaves Lucius' breath light in his own throat, and as the final word hangs in the cloistered air between their mouths, it flutters hot against the youthful face before his own.
And then, just as swiftly as it had overtaken him, his mania disappears. As he opens his mouth again, once more, he speaks in tones of breezy insouciance. ]
So, as you can see, I tower high above any one lord of any single world. You ought to consider yourself lucky — there are devotees out there eager to suffer any debasement for the privilege of calling themselves the Eternal's pet.
no subject
What could a man, who claims himself to be a Champion of the Lord of Ecstasy, want with him? A fledgling mage, not even a weapon of power just yet—a little lord, only with title and none of the power. He's nothing so much as a pretty face to look at, as he is now. So as the silence grows fat between them, and the rumble of that feline purr vibrates against his own breast, Eridanus can only swallow down his trepidation.]
Such an accomplished man, [he exhales, his breath barely above a whisper as he tries to keep the trembling of his form out of his tone,] what could you ever want from one such as me, then?