Hector (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
summonedstrength) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dear_mun2012-01-16 12:45 pm
summonedstrength) wrote in dear_mun2012-01-16 12:45 pm
Entry tags:
On being brought in for Isaac <3
"Mundane"? Such a name does not seem befitting of someone as...interesting as I am to gather you are. I shall have to find a less insulting address if I am to properly express my gratitude for our meeting.
Though I do wonder -- by what reason have I been summoned here? We have known one another in passing for years, but never have I been called to stand alongside you. At the risk of sounding ungrateful...why now?
[She tells him something and his demeanor instantly shifts from calm to absolutely horrified.]
...Certainly you jest.
Please, tell me you jest.
Though I do wonder -- by what reason have I been summoned here? We have known one another in passing for years, but never have I been called to stand alongside you. At the risk of sounding ungrateful...why now?
[She tells him something and his demeanor instantly shifts from calm to absolutely horrified.]
...Certainly you jest.
Please, tell me you jest.
no subject
... That's a little unfair of me, I suppose. Really, mundanes aren't so bad... sometimes. Now and then.
1/?
2/?
His pulse pounds briskly in his throat, every fibre of his being quivering with the restlessness of all the fury and lust and abandonment-grief that eats at him from the inside.]
3/3
OOC
OOC
OOC
no subject
Indeed, they have their moments. If she were doing this solely for her own amusement, t'would be quite a different story, but I know her to be working in my best interest. As far as she's concerned, hatred is a poison and I would do well to rid myself of it. Rosalie taught me that, and it's a sentiment that my "mun" upholds quite fiercely. All in all, I appreciate the motives, I just...find myself unsure of whether or not I have the strength to see through what she has in store for me.
I suppose only time will tell...
[He looks lost in his thoughts for a moment before snapping out of it and offering a sheepish smile.]
A-Ah...forgive me. I can assure you that I don't make it a habit to neglect introductions in the presence of a lady. My name is Hector.
no subject
It's so surreal to see Isaac alive again. How long has it been since he watched that castle fall, knowing that with it went all hope to say everything that had been left unsaid? Years, at least. He's only a little older now, though the time doesn't particularly show on his face. Regardless of whether it did or didn't, he's sure that Isaac knows him well enough to be able to pinpoint every single one of the subtle differences. It's a thought that both comforts and disturbs him.
He's often wondered what he would do if he had the chance to speak to his former friend again. In his time with Julia, he's had a lot of opportunity for reflection; to contemplate everything that lead up to the hatred that he can still feel burning within him with every passing glint in the eyes before him. However, in that contemplation, he always found traces of Rosalie -- the kindness she'd shown him rings through every thrum of his heartbeat, and it's something he feels that he couldn't have survived without. If he considers it, he can almost hear her voice, softly urging him toward the same forgiveness for Isaac. For years, the very idea struck him as so wholly abhorrent that he refused to linger on it. It's only recently that he's been able to digest the notion, which is the only reason that he doesn't reach for a weapon the second their eyes lock from across the room.
His gaze never wavers from the red-haired man, trying not to cringe as his name is spoken that way. He's watching every motion of the other man's body, almost as though he's searching for something just past them. It's so begrudging that it's almost physically painful, but he's actively forcing himself to push the veil of hatred aside. Of course, with the knowledge that the reason for Rosalie's death is standing right before him, that is so much easier said than done.]
Isaac.
[He offers cordially, though it's more than just a little obvious that he all but spoke the other man's name through gritted teeth.]
I should have known I'd find you here.
OOC
no subject
Head tilted upwards, he regards Hector through his eyelashes, nothing seeming to escape his coldly critical gaze - a gaze once filled with more profound admiration than envy. Hector, the stronger of the two, Lord Dracula's favourite despite his very best efforts...
It still stung viciously. Not the sort of pain he could take any pleasure from.]
I was almost beginning to think you had forgotten about me~. [The delivery is as if he is calmly discussing the weather with an acquaintance rather than speaking to his beloved enemy and shaking violently inside. But the sudden presence of a sneering smile contrasts that light and playful tone he has forced himself to adopt. He spreads his arms wide, advancing slowly, almost perfectly casually.] I've missed you dearly.
no subject
It's still just as unnerving as it's ever been.]
We both know that's impossible.
[Even he isn't sure how he means those words. Does he mean that Isaac meant so much that he couldn't forget him if he tried? Or does he mean that the hatred would never let him?
He has no more than a heartbeat to consider the notion before Isaac's voice breaks the silence once more.
"I've missed you dearly"
Those words light a fire in him for which he didn't want to believe embers existed. It's a mockery, but hearing it said out loud drives home every moment he spent wishing he could just see Isaac one more time.
Hector actually had missed him.
The realization was sobering, but with the words so palpably staining the air around him, there was no way he could deny it anymore. As if that in and of itself wasn't a hard enough pill to swallow, he also had to deal with that condescending attitude that just barely veiled something he knew to be incredibly merciless. It struck at his pride, his sense of security and his very moral fiber all at once, in a succession so utterly masterful that it could only come from Isaac. Not even Lord Dracula himself could have managed that in a matter of four words.
As Isaac advances, Hector moves back. His shoulders are tense and his eyes are every bit as stern as they'd ever been after Rosalie's death. Adrenaline surges through him to such a degree that it takes literally all of his self-restraint to keep from moving for the sword on his belt.]
I've no desire to find myself a pawn in another of your games. If that is your will, tell me now so that I may take my leave.
no subject
Despite the strength and solidity in Hector's posture, he senses from the complex subtleties of body language – the curve of Hector’s shoulders and the rising and falling motion of his chest - that there is unease below the surface. The edge of bitter satisfaction in his smile says more than enough. Soon… soon he would no longer have to envision how the other would look squirming like an insect, just waiting for him to end his total humiliation at last, waiting for him to bring down his stiletto heel and crush him to a pulp.
He feels the tremors of adrenaline and anticipation - -
And, in a brief moment of lucid thought, he also feels a twinge of anxiety, reluctant to acknowledge the possibility that this end result long dwelt on and dreamed of would not be as sweet and deeply fulfilling as he
was relying onhoped for. Perhaps Hector’s eventual death at his hands would offer him but an instant of heady ecstasy before he plunged back to rock-bottom once more, achingly empty, forever unappeased, forever incapable of letting things be.One more, the curse tightened its grip on him and he fiercely thrust the thought aside, snapping to attention.]
...Games? [Eyebrows lifting in exaggerated surprise, Isaac manages a lilting, almost sweet tone as if he were attempting to pass himself off as a blameless child. He then promptly breaks into a low, breathy chuckle before he throws back his head and laughs a harsh, mirthless laugh that bounces off the walls. The fucking gall of this man. Staring Hector down, his nose wrinkles in savage disdain. ]
It is only through my efforts that you have regained this glorious power that many would barter their souls but to taste for the briefest instant. You should be grateful, filthy traitor that you are!! You… the man who rejected our Lord Dracula’s gift, foreswore his oath to him, and left… without a care in the world. [A pause as if for impact, his chest heaving.] ...Was it not good enough? [He snarled, his aggression ramping up..] Did it not appease his Royal Highness?!
no subject
I can't argue with those sentiments. Hatred can blind one to truth if they will allow it too.
[Then she adds with a cheerful smile.]
Have more faith in yourself. If your mundane can see it as a possibility for you, she must obviously believe you have such strength. And one can gather strength from the belief others hold in them, can't they?