thenearshore | (no subject)

If there's been one voice that's been mostly absent from the yelling- although perhaps not entirely absent with quiet mutters- it's been that of the lanky teenage boy who enters the room with shuffling steps. Compared to Shun's violence and Ken's monstrous form, Chikusa know he doesn't look like anything special. That's just fine to him. Instead, he focuses on shuffling forward and drawing down into a loose lazy crouch. Despite what the sounds from earlier might have seemed like, he doesn't seem particularly angry or blood thirsty. Instead, there's a kind of mild annoyance to his dull stare.

"How troublesome..." Which is something of an understatement considering how many gods and shinki have died, but it's what Chikusa mutters out. His knuckles dig into his cheek as he rests his face against them, and he blinks slowly. "So.... For your god, right...?" That's what he'd been able to get out of him with a well-timed truth spell in the middle of his earlier babbling. Unfortunately, it's not a spell that involves compulsion. There's been nothing but silence on any questions since then, to Chikusa's annoyance. He'll have to learn better spells. But for the time being....

He'll see what he can work with using the inch he's been given.

Jay doesn't bother looking up when the boy -- they're all children, all of them, but the one in the foolish hat seems both the youngest and the most dangerous -- crouches down to address him. If he can sit quiet and still as his fingers turn purple from the too-tight tape binding him to the beam, then he can surely ignore a child who thinks that asking nicely will deliver him any results.

This one, Jay thinks, eye unfocused and fixed at a point somewhere far beyond and to the right of his captor, this one he'd set on fire. Such a mild boy, so apathetic he seems to barely be able to keep his eyes open. This one he'd see dance in light, flesh blistering, bones turning to ash. Eyes wide. Voice raised. Yes.

"Phosphorus, for fresh green growth. On a wooden pyre, for potassium."

Nothing but gibberish again. Well. Chikusa was expecting that.

Frankly, he's glad that the others have left this to him. So long as they all get answers, then it doesn't matter how, right? Shun and Lavi know this, he thinks, and Ken wouldn't question it. Still, his secrets are things he'd like to keep as such.

And his secret is one he quietly reaches into his jacket for.

"Shinki and their gods are connected... What effects us affects them... Right?" From his pocket, he pulls out a simple vial with a not-so-simple liquid inside it. Even in the dim light that is there, it's easy to see the strange way color twists and lurches from within the glass.

And frankly... light isn't needed for the burst of revulsion that anyone of the Far shore should feel in the presence of blight or ayakashi.

His assessment of the boy in the hat as the most dangerous seems to have been correct after all. Jay turns his face slowly toward the vial of churning filth, his expression blank as a shark's.

The only blight that transfers from a shinki to a god is guilt-blight, he knows. A little blight from an ayakashi on his skin won't affect her perfection, not from a distance. But too much blight on a shinki, left untreated for too long? That can have a transformative effect, and that could wound -- or even kill -- a god.

His expression doesn't change, but his heartrate is racing. The boy in the hat is threatening Tot. This is unacceptable.

"That's a dangerous toy."

Just once, his fingers taps against the lid, a short jerk of movement that's gone as fast as it started. "Not to me," he says simply. He knows how to handle poisons. That this one is of blight makes it no different in his opinion.

But there is one person who this will be very dangerous for, and they both know it's not really Jay himself.

Still.... There's always more room to twist the knife. "The last shinki that went ayakashi," he continues, slow and clear, "didn't go after people indiscriminately. From what I understand... He went after a god that had named him before anyone else. Before anyone could kill him."

That's a lie, actually. If Urashima was telling Chikusa the truth when they met only a couple of months ago, then Axel actually went after one of his gods last and was struck down by that same one. If he went after one of the others he was nora to, well.... Urashima never told him that. At the same time...

...He's pretty sure not many people still around know about that story now, or would spread it. Certainly, there's no hint of the lie in Chikusa's eyes as he stares with dull blankness right at Jay, letting the implication sink right in.

That's probably a lie, and a pathetic, manipulative lie, too. But it doesn't matter if there's truth behind the boy's words or not. The vial he holds is still Jay's death, and Jay's death is Tot's death.

Or rather, Jay's death by blight is Tot's death. If he dies any other way, she'll be spared.

He clutches that thought hard, the thin line of hope sharp as razor wire. How will he do it? He can't trick this one into killing him, he's sure of that. The dog in the other room, though, that one is barely housebroken. It shouldn't take much to get his throat between that one's teeth. A moment alone, a whisper of future death, promises to find his loved ones... it might even be quick.

But it'll all be for nothing if he can't get this damn child to take his vial of poison and go away. Jay leans his head back against the pole (the only movement he's capable of), and closes his eye.

"My god knew nothing of this. I acted alone." Surely someone so justice-minded that they would take a monster like him alive wouldn't inflict harm on an innocent. Surely not.

Keeping his arm up like this is tiring and annoying, but Chikusa doesn't want the threat to be forgotten for even a second. The reasoning is one he wouldn't be able to quite verbalize; he simply knows it from instinct and tactics of another life. Keep a threat in sight, let it be hard to look away from, and it'll be a weight on the back of a person's mind. The more weight, the longer it stays a threat, and the better a chance it is for something to slip.

Not that it will be that easy. Chikusa knows it as the man closes his eye and lets his head move back. This is going to be a long and difficult thing even with what leverage he has. All he's asking for is a crack...

Even that can be enough.

With the threat at hand, an eventual answer is expected. The only question is if it's the right one, and Chikusa blinks slowly as he considers it. On one hand, he's been able to do a lot of things that Axel hasn't known about, most of them minor troublesome things. On the other hand... Murder is a lot trickier than occasionally getting into dumb fights. After a moment, he lowers the vial, only to place his fingers thoughtfully at its top. "So if we asked them, we would hear the same?"

Jay allows himself the luxury of a deep, slow breath. The bullet wound festering in his side pulls and throbs with the motion, but her blessing keeps the pain a far distant spark.

(He'd cleaned it as best he could with the supplies he'd found at the vet's office. But the heat and tightness deep in the wound tells him that he didn't clean it well enough, and his few poor sutures were all ripped free during his capture. Without proper medical attention, the infection may very well kill him in about a week.)

"You would not." He focuses on the sensation of the hole in his abdomen, the pulling of torn muscles and swollen flesh as he breathes. If her glory were diminished by being forced to see her damaged soldier, he wouldn't be able to bear it. "If she thought it would spare my life, she would tell you any lie you'd care to hear," he lies. The bleeding has almost stopped, but when he inhales he can still feel points of fresh wetness pressing against the bandages. She cannot see him like this.

He opens his eye, and regards Chukusa blankly. "I'm very thirsty." Go away, boy.

Now that's a lie even he can tell, he thinks, clumsy with people and their thoughts as he is. Or, if not a lie, then an awfully convenient truth. Chikusa scrapes his nail against the vial top, thoughtful. There's no more point in pressing any further this way, with only words. He'll have to move further on.

The top comes off with a quiet little pop, loud enough in the empty room with just the two of them in it. When he rises up, it's with careful smoothness- there won't be a single spilled drop of the poison he's taken so long to craft. Not unless it's spilled with intent. That's what guides Chikusa's movements as he takes care of where to position the vial,, going up to one of the held up arms. No worry of being hit back that way. All it takes is a delicate tip... and the noxious, twisting fluid within drops down onto Jay's skin. The effect is immediate: sinking in, ugly warped bruise color spreading, a blotch of something almost worse than disease.

Chikusa is glad to see that it doesn't spread too much. It's perhaps the size of a half dollar, with slight trailing, but it doesn't overtake Jay's skin like it had with Hakkai. Either the once-shinki-now-god really had been that blighted, or the corrections Chikusa has made since then work. Either way, it's all well.

...For him, at least.

"If you die," he says idly, "whether by ayakashi or otherwise... you could just come back as her shinki again anyway..." Although that is a good bit of information to have as well. A goddess instead of a god... At least, if it's the slip he wants it to be. Carefully, he caps the vial. "...So, water?"

The boy pops the top off the little bottle, and Jay's entire world narrows until nothing exists but the vial of death, twisting and squirming against the glass. He bucks against his restraints as Chikusa approaches, wrenching his shoulders until he's in very real danger of tearing something. The strain is too much for the wound in his gut, and for a moment his vision greys out, chin dropping against his chest.

But then he's back, and even Tot's bountiful grace can't disguise the throb of wrong that's digging itself into his arm. It burns in a way that's beyond pain -- he can feel it in his soul, filthy tendrils reaching for Tot's holy light deep inside him.

He wrenches his head around, eye wide and rolling and teeth snapping at Chikusa like a feral animal. The angels are weeping, Tot's beautiful messengers, guardians that only he can see. They're coated in roiling purple tar, screaming and clawing at their skin to tear it free, and Jay pulls at his restraints until the blood drips down his arms, snarling wordlessly at Chikusa. He's threatened her light, soiled her holy hand around his heart, and all Jay can think about is ripping the boy limb from bloody twitching limb.

Well. That's a stronger reaction than he thought he would get.

Chikusa doesn't waste any time in taking a nice long step back, his height working to his advantage when it comes to that kind of thing. It's been clear from the start that Jay isn't particularly stable. Considering the way with which he'd been rambling about the glory of his god when they'd managed to catch him... Still, Chikusa had figured he'd be able to at least get some sort of answers out of him.

Clearly, he'd been optimistic about that. Clearly a slip up.

Smoothly, he tucks the vial safely away with one hand and, with the other, draws out one of his yoyos. It's a motion he does without thinking; he can't spare his eyes for the movements. After all, they're focused on Jay's restraints, wanting to know the exact moment if they might break. He's not going to take any chances with this.

As furious as he is -- and as clearly inconsequential pain is as a motivator -- Jay is still only human. The tape around his arms is more than strong enough to keep him restrained, and that, combined with the strength-draining hole in his gut, means that his frenzy only lasts a few seconds. Half a minute, at most.

He's pale and panting when it's over, head lolling against one blood-smeared arm. But his gaze never leaves Chikusa's face -- it's questionable if he even blinks.

The blight hurts. He's never felt pain before, not really. He's aware that some touch is damaging, knows that blood loss is a threat to his ability to serve her will, but it's an academic understanding. He simply doesn't feel pain... at least, not pain of the body. But this blight is a wound to his soul, and he turns his face away from his blighted arm, straining to distance himself from the contamination. Were his hands free, he'd cut the arm off rather than suffer the blight to remain.

"You stupid child." His voice is a raw rasp. "I'll kill you last."

At least they managed to restrain him well enough. When the energy finally leaves him, in its place just a shinki limply hung in place, Chikusa eases up. He still keeps his yoyo in hand, of course. To be unarmed right now seems like the really stupid option.

There's barely any response to the threat. All Chikusa does is blink, slow and lethargic. "Alright," he says, in the lax tone of someone who doesn't believe that at all. "I have shrine water with me as well... Answer truthfully, and I can wash away the blight easily." Assuming he believes it, anyway. Still, it's an offer that can be taken or left.

"You were responsible for Scully's death... Who else?" It's doubtful that there's anyone else running around murdering people, but it never hurts to check.

He won't wash the blight away. Jay doesn't believe that for an instant. If the boy approaches him with anything other than more of the blight potion in his hand, it'll be a real shock.

He can't let that happen. He can't. Tot will... if he turns, Tot will suffer for it. His failure will cause her pain, he can't allow that to happen. But how can he stop it? What can he do? A thread of real fear spikes through his chest, and Jay closes his eye, mentally reaching for the comfort of Tot's holy light.

But it's not there.

Frowning, he searches deeper. Her light has to be there, that warm gentle core he's built himself around. She's his foundation, his truth, without her he is nothing. Frantic, he forces himself to breathe deeply and slow -- perhaps his fear is clouding his senses. She's there -- she has to be.

She has to be.

...He can't find her. He can't feel her, can't sense her presence. She's not there. She's blocked somehow, he can't reach her, she's gone.

His eye snaps open, and it rolls wildly before snapping to focus on Chikusa. "She's gone," he gasps, and there's no denying the panic in his voice. It's written all over his face -- beneath the blood and the bruises he's gone dead white... and, if Chikusa looks closely, he might notice that the tips of the glowing character that were just barely visible from beneath his eyepatch are now missing. "I can't feel her."

...Well. There goes his main method of threatening him.

Chikusa's eyebrows rise up in surprise at the sudden news that the desperate shinki in front of him gives. This doesn't seem like an act, or a lie. With all the reverent rambling that the guy gave before he realized the spell Chikusa had cast, quite frankly, he doesn't seem like the type. That requires more finesse than fanatical devotion often gives.

Yoyo still in hand, he reaches into his pocket and flicks through the BBS. If anyone had killed a god that they though was in league with the murderer that's gotten everyone so aggravated... They might post about it, right? At least with how many kinds of people are in the Far Shore. But as his eyes skim through the various posts...

Nothing.

Which leaves, as it turns out, the more common explanation. "She must have vanished," he murmurs slowly. "Like other gods and shinki..." No murder, just the same mystery that has apparently plagued people since everything started.

The boy takes out... the bottle of blight again? No, no, it's just his phone. Jay watches, breathless, as Chikusa flips through the display -- clearly, he's checking for Antheia's name in the directory. What else could he be doing?

She must have vanished, he says, and Jay jerks back against the post like he's been struck. She can't. That's not. How could...

He can't accept it. His mind simply refuses to grasp the idea that Tot, called Antheia, goddess of love and spring, could be gone. And it's all his fault.

Blight bubbles up beneath his skin, staining every inch of his visible flesh with a sickly, bulging purple. He failed he. He allowed himself to be captured, alive, allowed himself to be exposed to the concentrated death in that little glass vial. Such a delicate god, soft as petals, couldn't withstand that kind of poison. He did this. He's to blame.

"I killed her." The blisters on his skin burst open, revealing bright, staring ayakashi eyes. They roll in their sockets, the nearest ones zeroing in on Chikusa with a gleam that can only be called hungry. "I killed God."

Shock, horror, grief- all are the expected reactions to the loss of a god. Chikusa has seen enough hints of it on the BBS to expect it, now. Hell, he had to deal with an ablution that seemed to touch on that as an issue, in some ways.

Even guilt isn't a surprise. A true shinki feels a powerful connection to their god, at least in Chikusa's opinion. What is a shock is the depth of it- how the blight spreads and warps along Jay's skin not like disease but fire. Revulsion wracks through Chikusa's body at the sight of it, his expression contorting into disgust as he jerks back. The phone slips from between his fingers, falling to the floor with a loud clatter, as he tries to reach for one of the boxes in his pockets.

Edited 2017-10-02 21:36 (UTC)

"Chikusa?"

Ken's at the door in an instant; he's been lurking close, ears straining for any sound out of place, not trusting his lethargic partner in the presence of a murderer of shinki and gods. He's kept his distance only at Chikusa's insistence, too anxious to take anything on faith.

He'd heard Jay's frenzied struggling earlier, but that hadn't bothered him; why should it? There wasn't any sound to indicate Jay had broken free, and Chikusa was getting information out of him. Ken had assumed that meant some unpleasantness for Jay, so of course he'd struggle.

But hearing something clatter to the floor - it's not like Jay should have anything to drop. So Ken's in the doorway, on high alert, almost before Chikusa's phone has come to rest. His eyes immediately go from Chikusa to Jay, or...whatever it is Jay is turning into. Monster, Ken's brain supplies, and while 'ayakashi' would be more specific and would probably be the conclusion Ken would come to if he reacted on thought more than instinct, the distinction isn't really that great.

He's baring his teeth and snarling almost before he jams a cartridge over his teeth, leaping forward toward Jay - at an angle that puts him squarely between Jay and Chikusa, in the bargain - even as his body swells into Kong Channel, filling a not-insignificant portion of the room. That Jay is still, for the moment, restrained, means nothing to him; he's rearing back a massive arm for a punch that could probably crush Jay and fracture the wall behind him besides.

With the creature warping in front of him, Chikusa is already too on edge. The door suddenly bursting open, banging against the wall from the force of it, has him jerk with a yoyo nearly out from his palm. It's a good thing that he has so much restraint, a good thing that Ken is so quick- he doesn't know what he would do if he injured his partner especially in the face of something already becoming a large threat.

In that stuttered moment as he holds himself back, that's more than enough time for Ken to shove his way inbetween them. The room become suddenly and jarringly claustrophobic in the face of Kong Channel, and Chikusa has to take a step back just to get even the slightest hint of breathing room. Alarm is already ringing through his mind as he does so, before Ken is even done drawing his arm back.

"Ken! Be careful- he's blighted!" Does his partner even remember what that means? Chikusa half doubts it.

Ken's fist stops in midair, and he glances back at Chikusa. "What should I do, byon?!" he demands, in that gravelly voice that always seems to come with Kong Channel. Now that Chikusa's safe, the immediacy of the situation has been dialed down a bit for him, and he's willing to consider his course of action to a slightly greater degree than 'not at all'.

Jay is still, for the moment, restrained... but those restraints (heavy silver tape securing his arms to the pipe overhead, and more tape around his legs and feet to prevent him from kicking) only works on a human-shaped body. And Jay is no longer human-shaped.

"Killed her," he groans, chest arching upward, tendons straining visibly in his throat and arms. His body convulses, and there's a wet cracking sound, then another, as the ayakashi taking over his body begins to reshape him into something thick and glistening.

He'd been a worm, but now, as his demonic chrysalis peels his rib cage out into grasping wings, now he's really something glorious. "Eeeeeat you."

There's a not a lot either of them can do on their own; they need Axel. At least, at the rate things are going, Chikusa is certain there's no other way. (That Shun, Lavi, and Deku exist is only a faint thought in the back of his mind.) Yet with how things are going- Gritting his teeth, Chikusa leaps forward, pushing himself up until he can lean over Ken's massive shoulder. With a sharp swipe of his arm, he draws up a borderline between him, Ken, and the monster that was once a shinki.

"We need to go," he snaps, still hanging against Ken's shoulder.

Considering the urgency with which Ken had rushed into the room, Shun knew there had to be something wrong from the start. And just about as soon as he heads into the room after the other boy, he can see exactly what that is. Though he expects Ken's snap reaction in trying to protect Chikusa to be the end of it, he's also not altogether surprised when Chikusa stops the guy. Blight on that scale isn't something a shinki should be risking contact with, but Shun knows if they leave it any longer, they're going to have an ayakashi on their hands rather than just a severely blighted and weakened shinki.

Even as Chikusa draws up the borderline, Shun storms past with clear intent, drawing the short sword he keeps under the back of his coat. It glows with an unnatural light, something almost ethereal, and without hesitation, he ducks and drives it into the chest of their captive. He knows the weak points of the body, has always ensured he'd be as familiar with them as possible in the heat of battle. The blade drives deep into the heart, and he can feel the efficiency with which it destroys the muscle when he gives a sharp twist to the weapon afterwards for certainty's sake.

It's different. More visceral than what he's familiar with doing. But the intent to kill isn't unfamiliar to him, and he intends to make it as certain as it is in his world.

The amount of blood that pours forth when the blade is withdrawn seems to answer his unspoken question of whether the shinki had been too far gone to die of this. The half-formed wings begin to wither and crumple, devoid of guilt with which to continue feeding and manifesting, and Shun turns to the two behind the borderline, blade still coated in red.

"It's over." Finally. It's what he was hoping for from the moment they captured the guy.

Ken had forgotten the others existed, too; it had been nothing but himself, Chikusa, and their opponent. So Shun's appearance surprises him, although he can't exactly complain when Shun eliminates the threat for them. On the one hand, Ken's almost disappointed that he didn't get to fight; he loves fighting. But on the other hand, he's not sure how he could have fought without getting blighted, and this way he's not blighted and Chikusa is safe.

Reluctantly, he chalks this up as a net positive outcome.

After scrutinizing the corpse to make sure the other shinki is dead, he removes his cartridge, which makes for a much less cramped room as he shrinks back down to his normal size. "Is he gonna come back?"

In a way, it's almost comical how Chikusa's lanky legs, once dangling from the side of Ken's massive back, have to find the ground again once his partner shrinks. He's not paying it much mind, however. Their opponent is dead to his satisfaction, and their god is thus safe. He can't really ask for more.

"If he does," he mutters, glancing back, "it'll be to a new god. His other one... apparently disappeared while I was speaking with him." Which explains how this momentary clusterfuck happened, in a way. Shun can probably put the dots together; Chikusa isn't expecting Ken to. "If he does come back, then at least we know who he is... But honesty..." There's something that is probably a shrug. "None of his victims have come back. So it could go either way."

That sure is a lot of words from Chikusa. Putting into consideration that he just spent a good few minutes interrogating someone and, well, it's no surprise that he yawns after all that. "I'm tired," he mutters, starting to shuffle for the door. "And hungry... Let's go, Ken."

Chikusa answers Ken's question effectively enough, and Shun nods in agreement, though glances back at the dead man as the subject of the disappearing god comes up.

"I heard him say 'killed her' when I came in. I figured that might've been what caused this. Though I'm surprised someone like this could feel that much guilt over something like that."

There's definitely a somewhat derogatory tone to his voice there. Shun has done terrible things to people for the sake of his loved ones as well, but he did his best to avoid outright enjoying it, and there's no real indication this guy had a strong reason for what he was doing. If he did, it died with him, because there's no way of getting it out of him at this point.

"If he comes back, at least we'll know who to hunt down if this starts up again. If he doesn't, then good riddance. He deserves to be gone forever after what he did."

And while Chikusa already seems interested in heading out, Shun hesitates slightly before leaning back against the wall. "I'll keep an eye out a little longer. To see what happens to the body."

"Okay," Ken says, falling into step behind Chikusa readily enough. Seeing a shinki killed right in front of him doesn't seem to have distressed him much, if at all.

He glances back over his shoulder at Shun briefly. "Thanks, byon." He didn't want to get blighted.

But then he's trotting after Chikusa. "Can we get something to eat?!" His voice is audibly excited even as it gets more distant.

He'd been debating for a long time whether he wanted to personally put a knife in Farfarello's throat for killing his prey, and Crawford, mostly Crawford... or whether a bag of popcorn and drinking in the tornado of dark emotions from this little corner of the world was enough. At the very least, he lost his patience to stay mute about the whole affair. He wasn't 100% sure yet who Farfarello's captors were, just that he HAD been caught.

Boy, how much chaos would there be if he actually got Farf out of there instead...? Hmm, tempting. Best to see how unstable 'Jay' is at this very moment.

'The great, elusive killer of the Far Shore... managed to get himself caught, did he? Such a shame he didn't have someone around to direct all of that skill.'

He can't feel Tot's glory... and worse, in her place is another presence. A voice, familiar but not recognized, and a mocking tone that Jay can parse even through his panic.

'What have you done with her!?'

He definitely liked Farfarello better when he hated the divine. This ass-kissing is just leaving a terrible taste in his mouth - Tot of all people. Not even one of the Takatori brats, but his doll.

'Her, her her... that's been your problem, you know. Before it was Tot, it was another woman who took you out of the picture. I don't get it. I really don't. Have you not regained a single memory in the whole time you've been here, Jay?'

Before it was another woman says the voice, and Jay shudders with the truth of the statement. The floor feels less solid at the thought; his breathing comes in rasps, the air too thick to inhale cleanly.

'I need no memories. I'm a dead man, Death's man, redeemed by her from the life I lived before!' Even his mental voice trembles -- with fear, yes, with passion, but mostly with rage. A swelling, purple, demonic rage. 'Where is she!'

'Funny, thinking you ever needed redeeming in the first place. Some next evolution of humanity.'

He says it perfectively dismissive, airing one of the first objections he ever raised to Crawford - that in his professional, telepathic opinion there was nothing Talent-wise in Farfarello at all. Crawford had been telling him over and over that he deserved to be in Schwarz and all this time Schuldig was far more willing to believe Crawford knew something that he didn't. So he went along. And look where it's got them.

'She's probably the same place you sent Crawford back to, back to his past where he doesn't remember shit about what he's become years down the road. I tell you much more than that and you really will lose your pretty head.'

He shudders again, and tastes blood. This voice, this man... he knows things, knows secrets that Jay never wanted to uncover. What chaos he could have caused for heaven, if he had this man's knowledge! And now it's being turned on him. Somehow, through some magic this man is shielding him from Tot's holy light -- he has the power to thwart heaven itself!

'Find him', Jay promises himself, flailing about in the dark of his own mind. 'Find him, break him, take what he knows.' The thought is more emotion and image than words, flashes of red, sunlight through closed eyelids and open, screaming mouths.

Unconsciously, his mind reaches for Schuldig's as visions of restraints and split skin (blood dripping down scarred arms from the twisted silver band of duct tape that bound his wrists together) pour over him. If there's a voice, then there's a mouth. His mouth can bite; the Other's mouth can be bitten, and held, and shaken.

'Like a dog with a rat.'

He can hide it right now at this distance between their minds, but he's starting to feel that pressure in his temple of someone leaning on his defensive walls.

'You'd like that, wouldn't you? To rip someone to shreds with your bare teeth. Surprised you didn't take out one of the little ones that way, if I'm honest.'

And then - purely as an afterthought - he remembers Jennifer. Yet another thorn in his grand plans, that was, losing her.

'Funny how you've decided I'm that person, though. Not one of your captors, but me - the guy who could possibly get you out of there without much trouble at all. But see this is why I can't. I know you betray us - and now, without Crawford around, it's just a betrayal of me. You took my best weapon from me, you know. One of your many victims. So now you're just going to have to live with that blood in your mouth and none of mine to sate you - for maybe a few days, weeks, if you're lucky, an eternity if not.'

There.

There's something there, something... something like a balloon. The image in his mind is red, taunt and round, and he closes his eye to try and see it more clearly. It's big, and it's cold, and as he approaches it (or perhaps, as it comes into focus? There isn't really any sense of distance or scale here), it seems to vibrate with mocking laughter.

Is this the barrier that is keeping her glory from him?

With a mental snarl Jay lashes out at the thing, clawing at its surface, trying to dig his nails in to grasp and twist and rend.

'GIVE HER BACK!'

For a scant few moments, Schuldig realizes that he's coming into focus on Farfarello's end - so much like the ego-trip that brought down Geisel, by presenting himself where Crawford could grab at him. Except this isn't intentional. This is that subtle, old connection that used to keep them all alive as a team betraying him. This is the power of Farfarello's zeal getting used against him - of someone who is unafraid of a telepath having the willpower to destroy one.

The first attack he dodges, but the second one grazes his mental projection arms as he barely makes it away that time.

'I DON'T HAVE HER!'

Yeah as if that will work at this rate. But he keeps dodging.

'How about a trade? Tot for Crawford.' Which he knows is just baiting Farf at this rate, he CAN'T give Crawford back any more than Schuldig can give Tot back. But he's angry and frustrated. He took a fucking golf club to the face over Farf killing Ouka and this is the thanks he gets? He's starting to regret ever.... he can't decide between 'leaving Crawford's side' and 'agreeing to a team in the first place.'

I don't have her, he says, and then, in the same breath, I'll trade her for another. He's afraid, and fumbling. Next, he will beg, and then he will die and fall aside. And then Tot will be free.

Jay digs his metaphorical nails deeper into his opponent, and lunges forward, teeth snapping.