#( GOD DAMN THESE RULES THAT BIND CORINTHIAN NOT TO KILL HIM )

[korinthiakos]

A dry laugh escapes him. "Exceptional?" Another dry laugh bubbles up from their throat, all mouths open as laughter escaped in perfect unison; like a small taunting choir. "You are no exception. I see you and I see what you are; you are flesh and blood and power. You are not the first nor the last. There are no exceptions." The Corinthian spoke, laughter dying on their tongues - teeth grinding. "I am remembered in ways more than one." Their predecessor certainly made something for themselves. A serial killer with a signature to be remembered by people who feared them and who wanted to be them. ( Though most of that was rarely remembered. Corinthian can't even begin to fathom what happened. )

A puppet? They could step forward and-- No. The Corinthian cannot. It is punishable to hurt those that they serve in a way. Corinthian couldn't hurt him. But the thought happened to be echoing in their mind like a morbid mantra.

Yet they do dare to get closer. "You're only saying that because you think your low blow words could dare strike me. You know what I see before me?" The Corinthian stares at him. "The essence of evil. You are like a treasure cove for all dark desires. You sink further and further every second." They sneer a little. However, Corinthian cannot help but feel somewhat enraptured by such darkness like Michael. They kind of want to bite him - eat him - devour him. Eat his eyes.

Their hand reaches out, fingers trailing over Michael's neck. They could seize it and squeeze it if they wanted too. But it was something that they shouldn't do. "..."

Now he wishes he could look into his captive's head, see what more ideas that sadistic creature jumbles in there. Michael's shit-eating grin wanes the moment he finds his endeavor to tempt Corinthian negated, buried under perspectival facts. If you'd consider them that. " They might remember a phantom of the effect meeting you had on them, sure ", follows a sigh framed by the subtle frown Michael fails to suppress. " Do they remember your face, though? Your name? You? " He strains to revive the smile he's abandoned seconds prior, eyes cast downward for the span between two blinks. " Me clearly remembering you doesn't count. I'm exceptional. " Speaking of vanity, right?

Doesn't mean Corinthian hadn't dug some cracks into Michael's confidence during few of the many nightmares. However, the suspense created with that oh-so-accidental gap scraped into the barrier weighs heavy until the captive notices. Their comment suffices to widen Michael's faded smile yet again. " Do you want to know what I see? " A pause trails after drawled words and no, he doesn't wait for an answer to that. " A puppet. An awful lot of wasted potential. " He could as well just have demanded the Corinthian to come at him with all primal rage stuffed into that handsome shell. But why not provoke creatively? At least, Michael doesn't run away— why should he —merely proceeds to saunter deeper into the room. As if he didn't just subject himself to mortal danger.

@korinthsobs (since bitches terminated your og blogue)