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Post by Vykhlu the Erudite on Apr 16, 2014 2:08:54 GMT
“So… there’s going to be a next time, then?”
Vyk raised an eyebrow. As disinclined to reply to that as he was, he figured it merited some sort of response if only for the kindness of communication. It wasn’t as if ‘next time’ would be any time soon—he was quite done for the day, and Tsui might short circuit (figuratively, of course, she was no computer or program) if he pressed his luck any further. Any intelligent Promethaen knew not to push their OAI beyond its limits, as they were valuable companions in nearly every regard.
“If you’re a good dog,” he responded petulantly. He had a feeling that the dynamic between himself and Dainn would be much the same regardless of whatever activities they engaged in. It wasn’t as if there were feelings on either side, apparently. At least the bloodhound was being reasonable enough in regards to bathing, at least so far. Not that Vyk was about to give him another chance to cause mischief again, he already had one confused OAI on his hands, and he didn’t need more trouble.
“Fine, but you’ll have to find me the cleaning fluids. What? Or am I supposed to lick it clean? Woof woof.”
The Erudite rolled his eyes and gave a very tired sigh. “You speak as if you don’t believe that I have this placed stocked full of sanitation devices. I do hope I haven’t overestimated your intelligence and that my belief in the fact that you know me better is well-founded. In fact, there are some cleaning supplies in the cupboards on either side of you.” He gestured with a smug little smile to the cabinet on the side table and dresser closest to Dainn.
“Does that mean you’re not going to wash me? What a poor master you are!”
“You do not respond well to attempts at positive reinforcement for washing,” he replied curtly. “Or, for that matter, my assistance. As such, it’s easier for me to just threaten you until you do as I command.” Vyk gave a quick, sardonic smile. “Not bad mastery so much as efficiency.”
And he did so like to be efficient. It was part of his heritage, after all.
However, the Promethaen soon had a little bit of worrying to do.
"Because in prison, we were usually given 'sessions', re-educating classes if you like for people like me."
His brow furrowed slightly, and his stomach churned—a reaction, he noted, to fear of his lies being discovered. However, Tsui was quick to step in and clear things up.
“Re-educating sessions? In a human prison? Quite a progressive ideal for a race which can barely manage to unite itself against an enemy that’s eating its progeny.”
Vyk stayed silent, managing to raise an inquiring eyebrow at Dainn as he continued, Tsui’s control of his facial muscles giving him the illusion of staying in his usual stony mask.
"Latin was one of things they taught us in excruciating detail and I must say- at no point did I hear words like that."
That elicited straight-up laughter from his OAI. “Latin? In a prison? It’s a dead language, used by scientists and posh thinkers whose main thoughts revolve around thinking they’re better than they are. I must say, Vyk, that I seriously doubt such a thing as Latin was taught in a prison. I doubt even many Hrafnung know the language.”
“That’s actually a good point. I think you must be right.”
Vyk felt relief trickle through him in a wave of tingling coolness. His confidence considerably reinforced by Tsui’s points, he was fairly confident in the lie. Dainn, then, was probably bluffing—not something that Vyk would put past him. He seemed far too curious about the supposed doctor’s past, activities, and knowledge.
Still, he was on the scent of a trail that Vyk did not want him to pick up just yet. Although he could say that his motives for such a desire were because he would be forced to kill the bloodhound if Dainn discovered his true identity, he wasn’t sure he wanted to bother with pretending to be so altruistic. No, his motives were to preserve humanity, at least a little bit longer, for his own study. A xenobiologist needed subjects, after all, and it was rare to find a place that the Infinite was so fascinated with. He would be hard pressed to interest the cold face of his race with any other planet, no matter how biologically fascinating. He didn’t want his fun spoiled, and he wanted his irony, so there was no reason to give Dainn his trail.
"Perhaps you're mistaken on what language you were speaking? Try again, sir."
The Erudite gave a small chuckle. “A linguistic savant, eh?” he inquired, raising an eyebrow. “How curious! I did not know that the education in prisons was so high-class nowadays. Tell me, have you heard of Verdi’s Requiem? The chorus—Dies irae, dies illa, solvet saeclum in favilla, teste David cum Sibylla. Quantus tremor est futurus, quando judex est venturus, cuncta stricte discussurus! Tuba mirum spargens sonum, per sepulcra regionem, coget omnes ante thronum—if you know Latin so excellently, be a darling and translate it for me.”
Hopefully that would cause a hitch or two in Dainn’s plan.
"Actually, yes, I do have a couple. Mostly referring to that language of yours."
The Erudite raised an eyebrow—and it stayed raised throughout the following performance as he, unimpressed, watched Dainn poke fun at him.
Terribly impolite, I do say, for him to take such a view on events which he desired. I do a favour, and he mocks me for it! How rude.
Vyk was not about to admit that his pride was slightly wounded by the joking. Instead, he simply waited until his bloodhound was done, then stated in a monotone, “I do believe it’s time for a bath. Twice the bubbles this time around.”
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"I am not your savior, nor your destruction. I am simply a xenobiologist. And your god." DESIGNATION; the Erudite, Head Xenobiologist of the Infinite. ORGANIC ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE; Tsui CURRENT ALIAS DESIGNATION; Doctor Victor ADDITIONAL NOTABLE COMPANIONS; bloodhoundTAGS; Dainn Haskett Vindalfr INSPIRATION; none NOTES; i am so sorry this took so long also i forgot to use promethaen at all WHOOPS i'm an idiot but it's ok because I gave you something? yeah ok it sucks i'm sorry |
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Post by Dainn Haskett Vindalfr on Apr 18, 2014 18:33:00 GMT
“If you’re a good dog,” came Victor's sharp retort.
Dainn raised an eyebrow and flicked his tongue over the top row of smirking teeth. "That'll be a 'yes' then." he responded smoothly, voice punctuated slightly with the undertones of a dark chuckle. While normally Dainn took issue with instructions to be 'good', he had a well-reasoned suspicion that Victor's perception of 'good' wasn't exactly how normal society defined it. As far as Dainn was aware, Victor's motive was to obtain subjects, subjects on which he could carry out his research, and Dainn could work with that, providing he was given ample payment - whatever sort of form that took.
“You speak as if you don’t believe that I have this placed stocked full of sanitation devices. I do hope I haven’t overestimated your intelligence and that my belief in the fact that you know me better is well-founded."
Dainn noted Victor's slight twang of offense and rolled his eyes at the doctor's irritation. Clearly their levels of wit were not always read from the same page, and although that had been fun at first, Dainn was beginning to wonder just how unaccustomed Victor really was to human contact. The truth was, Dainn didn't really felt like he knew Victor at all, or at least well. No. He had a curious feeling that he had only just scratched the surface in terms of his companion's psyche and who the man really was. He was like a great expanse of water that appeared crystal clear but when one approached the water's edge there was just no telling how deep it went, or what was lurking in those depths. Nevertheless, Dainn would take enjoyment in wading in regardless. (in one way or another hurr hurr)
"In fact, there are some cleaning supplies in the cupboards on either side of you.”
Dainn gave an indignant grumble. Victor really did have some nerve, but then again, Dainn was feeling particularly charitable that evening, and Victor had -in a way- done him a favour, so perhaps he felt a little more inclined to bend to his will. With a lazy stretch, he reached an arm across to one of the nearby cabinets (making sure he didn't fall of his seat, although his backside was hovering over the edge) and clicked open the small wooden door. He gave an exasperated sigh at the contents; two shelves stocked full to the brim with cleaning products. Various bottles and neatly organized cleaning wipes all waiting for use. Dainn gave a brief, dry look over to Victor, "I'd recommend finding a girlfriend, sir." he advised in jest, although his tone sounded far from amused.
Reaching into the cupboard with another forced stretch, Dainn equipped himself with a small bottle of cleaning fluid and a pristine white cloth. He stood then, and inspected the supposedly dirty chair. Of course, Dainn couldn't find any evidence of him being there, and suspected Victor was only making him do this for his own amusement. Truth be told, he had a damn good mind to squirt whatever fluid was in this bottle right into Victor's eyes (with other things oh god i'm so sorry) but luckily he stayed his hand, although the temptation was certainly rising every time he looked over and was met with that self-satisfied look in Victor's eyes. Whatever, he could play this game of pretend; it wasn't as if it was hurting him in any way, save his pride. He stooped down on his haunches and began to spray the liquid onto the chair, making a mental note to cause an even bigger mess in the future - and one that was actually visible.
“You do not respond well to attempts at positive reinforcement for washing.”
Dainn scrubbed roughly at the soft fabric of the seat. "Oh?" came his voice, sounding falsely surprised but the smug smile betrayed his pretense.
“Or, for that matter, my assistance. As such, it’s easier for me to just threaten you until you do as I command. Not bad mastery so much as efficiency.”
"Ah, so does that mean when I do behave and act according to your will, you'll gladly wash me?" he inquired, his confident smirk now changing shape into a cheeky grin, eyebrows raised in playful suggestion. Of course, he could already predict Victor's answer, but it only fueled his amusement. "You really do like this good dog bag dog shit, don't you?" Obviously Dainn liked it (of course he would), despite his -blatantly false- disapproving tone, but it wouldn't concern him if Victor responded accordingly the game or not. Him responding to Dainn's mockery of him was enough. "Bondage and cleaning. Your two biggest fetishes." Dainn added, deliberately rubbing hard at an already clean patch of fabric.
“A linguistic savant, eh?”
There was a noticeable twang of disbelief in Victor's tone, and Dainn had to stop himself from visibly wincing at the concern that his lie had already been uncovered. Still, it wouldn't surprise him; Victor may have been a naive creature but he was annoying smart to a fault. He kept scrubbing, face relaxed and bored looking even though his mind was frantically trying to strum together another lie to cover his previous one.
“How curious! I did not know that the education in prisons was so high-class nowadays."
Dainn gave a shrug and blew a raspberry, Victor's words seemingly floating over his head as he continued to clean the same patch of chair.
"Tell me, have you heard of Verdi’s Requiem?"
He tried his damn hardest not to tense but even Dainn couldn't stop the split second hesitation that locked up his joints for a brief moment, before he continued to scrub, now almost completely absent-minded. No, of course I bloody haven't, you bastard. came his inward response, and he felt his lips tighten as he willed the words back down his throat. Victor continued despite Dainn's silence.
"The chorus—Dies irae, dies illa, solvet saeclum in favilla, teste David cum Sibylla. Quantus tremor est futurus, quando judex est venturus, cuncta stricte discussurus! Tuba mirum spargens sonum, per sepulcra regionem, coget omnes ante thronum—if you know Latin so excellently, be a darling and translate it for me.”
Dainn listened with increasing agitation as his irritating companion began to spout a muddle of unfamiliar words that Dainn could only assume were Latin, although he'd be damned if he knew even one. By now he had stopped scrubbing, placed the cleaning equipment down beside him and was sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him and arms behind his back, propping him up and allowing him to lean back. There was a long silence. A loooooong silence, broken only intermittently with clicking noises coming from Dainn's tongue. He really couldn't bluff his way out of this one, and the annoying thing was Victor seemed to know that perfectly. The more the pause increased, the more obvious his lie was. Eventually, he slowly turned his head to Victor, finally making eye contact with him after he'd avoided his gaze by looking up at the ceiling for the entire length of his silence, as if he was masterfully deducing the lyrics. After another brief pause of making dry eye contact with Victor, he suddenly bit back; "It means; 'great sex, but next time take your socks off'."
“I do believe it’s time for a bath. Twice the bubbles this time around.”
Dainn's brow immediately furrowed. To hell with your bubbles. He stood up slowly, and brushed whatever dust had stuck itself to his naked body before calming strolling over to Victor. Before the doctor could inevitably freak out that he was head level with Dainn's crotch, the taller man suddenly bent down so that their faces were inches away. The first few times Dainn had done this, Victor had visibly protested, but he wondered now perhaps if his companion was used such an invasion of personal space. He doubted it, but then again, he didn't care. Once their eyes met, Dainn's expression darkened considerably, "Make me." he returned, voice low but just above a whisper and yet almost like a growl. Before Victor could try to make him, Dainn suddenly launched himself upon the doctor, but instead of taking a violent means of approach, he simply forcefully flopped himself upon Victor's lap, his body weighing down the smaller man's legs as he stretched himself across the sofa. He emitted a long, happy sound as he stretched his form, yawning as he finished. Of course, it was all a challenging front, and done so because Victor was so deliciously fun to wind up. Dainn briefly flashed the doctor a charming smile, but it was quickly masked by a bemused, curious expression, "Wow, Victor. Is that your cutting knife in your dressing gown pocket? Or was watching me clean really that good?"
Tags: Vykhlu the Erudite Inspiration: dainn being a cutey-patooty i mean come on he's all '/flop wheee scratch my belly' Notes: I KNOW VYK PROBABLY WOULDN'T GET A BONER OK DAINN'S JUST BEING A DICK.
of course if you do want him to have one that's totally cool
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Post by Vykhlu the Erudite on Apr 20, 2014 20:57:34 GMT
“That’ll be a ‘yes’ then.”
Although Vyk was disinclined to commenting on the fact, Dainn’s assessment of the situation was probably right—unless, of course, the bloodhound died before then, which was a completely possible outcome with his current behavior.
The Erudite would be careful to keep his secrets just that.
And there were a great many secrets. He was a member of the Infinite, after all, and one didn’t just go reading their diaries on a weekend sleepover. Not that he was worried about Dainn causing trouble in the case that he learned such things. The fact was that the human brain had a very evident limit for the things that it could understand, and a great deal of the knowledge that Vyk’s mind held was well beyond that boundary.
The humans truly thought themselves superior. Dainn’s composure and cheeky attitude demonstrated that. Yet technologically, they were in the dark ages, and arcanologically they were amateurs. Their culture was schizophrenic, and their ‘peacemakers’ vulgar. True, the Promethaen had been rather disorganized at such a tribal stage, but certainly his race would have been capable of quickly eliminating the behemoths. Humanity had a bit of a stunted growth because of that particular event, but that didn’t really give them an excuse.
“I’d recommend finding a girlfriend, sir.”
Vyk gave him a look of disdainn.
“Maybe I’ll just use that maid you discovered,” he responded dispassionately. Cleanliness was his personal stress relief. Anyone who dared come between him and a world of order better have a damn good reason, and just being his ‘girlfriend’ was not one of them. Besides, unlike humans, Promethaen found both genders to be equal. One’s status was dependent entirely on one’s merit, although family helped.
“Ah, so does that mean that when I do behave and act according to your will, you’ll gladly wash me?”
The Erudite withheld a sigh and roll of his eyes.
“Vyk, remind me again why we’re putting up with him?”
“I’m beginning to wonder if I shouldn’t kill him myself.”
Currently, Dainn was receiving mental eyebrow raises from both OAI and Promethaen, which required some skill in pressing buttons.
“You really do like this good dog bad dog shit, don’t you? Bondage and cleaning. Your two biggest fetishes.”
Is that what they’re called, now?
“Put a muzzle on it,” he responded in a monotone, as if he did not realize the punny connotations of the saying. However, his words had been carefully chosen, although the intention behind them remained an unamused desire to see Dainn curb his tongue.
At least the man was cleaning now, even as Vyk prodded him about Latin.
“Vyk, did you see that?”
The Erudite mentally acknowledged the fact that he’d noted Dainn’s slight tensing at his query about the Verdi Requiem. There were certain bonuses to having familiarized oneself with the culture of a race before literally orbital dropping into the thick of things. (That had been an enjoyable experience, and was on his list of things to do again.) A bit of study on the surroundings to enhance his camouflage was a small price to pay for inconspicuous observation of subjects.
Vyk’s question rang in the air. Silence reigned as Dainn sat there, Vyk simply raising an expectant eyebrow. Even if Dainn happened to understand Latin, the Promethaen could still find his way out of this one. He wasn’t called Erudite for no reason.
Just because he could, he glanced at the clock on the wall for a moment before returning his gaze to the bloodhound. It appeared as if Vyk had him pinned—and not in the way that he’d just been pinned.
“It means; ‘great sex, but next time take your socks off’.”
Vyk gave an unimpressed “hmph.” I will be doing whatever I damn well please.
“Make me.”
And suddenly there was a puppy on top of him, flopping about like a graceless fish. A graceless, naked fish. Vyk gave a small noise of disgust.
“Wow, Victor. Is that your cutting knife in your dressing gown pocket? Or was watching me clean really that good?”
Anger flashed through him, burning hot. But it was quickly extinguished—emotions were not generally allowed to stay around in Vyk’s mind.
“I will be very disappointed if you continue to let him abuse his privileges further,” Tsui commented icily.
He took a deep breath, steepling his fingers above his chest and closing his eyes, turning to rely on instinct and magical senses.
“Let us take a moment here to examine our current state of affairs. I am a doctor who has recently dissected a number of human patients, both live and dead, obtained from a wanted psychopathic criminal,” he stated. “Unless you are incredibly dense, you have noticed that I am perhaps stronger than I appear. I do not appear to care about the dangers of associating with a man who kills indiscriminately, and, in fact, employ him. I have enough training with a knife to cut out a live person’s voicebox. From what you have seen, I do not give a damn about morals or anything beyond my own whims. You are currently defenseless and on my home territory. If you really want me to ‘make you’ do anything, I can assure you that I will have no issue using possibly fatal force.”
A small smile played at the edges of his lips, a dark and icy expression.
“I will give you a moment to reconsider your course of action.” The smile remained. “By the time I open my eyes, I would suggest being on your way to take a bath, with full intentions to clean up your mess, as is polite.”
His eyebrows raised rather melodramatically, although his eyes did not open. “Please also understand that I do not like being rude to guests. It is my desire to treat guests with utmost respect, but guests also must understand that the host’s respect and work is not to be flagrantly abused.”
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"I am not your savior, nor your destruction. I am simply a xenobiologist. And your god." DESIGNATION; the Erudite, Head Xenobiologist of the Infinite. ORGANIC ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE; Tsui CURRENT ALIAS DESIGNATION; Doctor Victor ADDITIONAL NOTABLE COMPANIONS; floppy puppyyyy |
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Post by Dainn Haskett Vindalfr on Apr 21, 2014 12:13:51 GMT
“Maybe I’ll just use that maid you discovered,”
Dainn rolled his eyes at Victor's remark and gave an unamused "Hmph." Knowing Victor, he doubted whether there was even enough of the maid to hold a scrubbing brush. At the back of his mind, he wondered what the doctor did with all his experiments once his research was completed, and Dainn mentally debated with the possibility of asking Victor if the specimens could fall back into his hands once the necessary tests were done and dusted - after all, they were his prizes first. Usually Dainn loathed toying with playthings that had been desecrated by the hands of others - he wasn't one for hand-me-downs and charitable offerings, but after the eventful occurrences of the previous night (the 'getting beat up my Drakornhedi' part, not the 'getting beat off by Victor' part), Dainn doubted whether he was in a capable state to go out and effectively hunt to own his satisfaction at the present time. So for now, getting his hands dirty in the already deceased and soiled would have to suffice - if Victor was willing to depart with them, that is.
An air of irritating smugness enveloped itself around Victor after Dainn had failed to correctly translate the Latin verse, and it annoyed him to no end. Although - and this was a surprising revelation, a wave of excitement rolled over Dainn when he came to realise that Victor had effectively put him down in his place. Of course, he was used to being under a metaphorical boot - he'd experienced it many times; punishment, discipline, or whatever the Hrafnung prison guard had decided to call it, and that had always been just so. Dainn endured it because Dainn enjoyed it- well, he enjoyed enraging others by making them believe that he was getting amusement out of it. But Victor...Victor was new, he was different, he was...exciting? Dainn wasn't sure if that was perhaps too generous a word, but for the time being, it was the most suitable adjective he could think of.
The truth was - and Dainn loathed to admit it, but the truth was that he secretly liked it when Victor actually showed some balls and took control. Of course, Dainn was always on hand to remind the good doctor that he too was not an individual to be easily trifled with, but for now, he'd gladly let Victor take the reins. The dog and his master dynamic suited the pair well, although it appeared there were some aspects to 'canine' ownership that Victor had not yet become accustomed to, as evident by his squeal of dismay and the furrowing of his brow after Dainn flopped down upon his lap. The doctor's suddenly dark countenance made Dainn aware that the sheet of proverbial Victor-ice was wearing perilously thin, and the Shuck had to stifle a wiggle of excitement.
“Let us take a moment here to examine our current state of affairs. I am a doctor who has recently dissected a number of human patients, both live and dead, obtained from a wanted psychopathic criminal,”
Dainn raised both eyebrows and gave a rather annoying mock-confused head tilt, playing the part of a perplexed puppy. Victor had adopted his 'now listen here you because I'm going to give you a thorough ticking off' voice, the kind a schoolteacher uses on an unruly student. Dainn gave an innocent blink and waited expectantly for the inevitable lecture.
“Unless you are incredibly dense, you have noticed that I am perhaps stronger than I appear. I do not appear to care about the dangers of associating with a man who kills indiscriminately, and, in fact, employ him. I have enough training with a knife to cut out a live person’s voicebox. From what you have seen, I do not give a damn about morals or anything beyond my own whims."
At this, Dainn rolled his eyes and gave a bored sounding raspberry, like a child who'd already received such firm words a thousand times before. He decided it best to allow Victor to continue his probably pre-rehearsed speech and -following Victor's instructions- 'kept a muzzle on it'. Instead, he'd answered the doctor's words with mental comebacks. There was never any real question regarding your morals, doctor, not with the basement of stiffs or after seeing how gladly you take stiff- That particular strain of thought was interrupted after Victor's voice took a sinister turn.
"You are currently defenseless and on my home territory. If you really want me to ‘make you’ do anything, I can assure you that I will have no issue using possibly fatal force.”
There was a pause which allowed Dainn to determine that Victor had finished with that bout of scolding so he decided to finally interject; "If you were to use 'fatal force', sir, then how do you expect me to get anything done?" he reminded in a sing-song voice, eyebrows waggling and lips toying with a sweet smile.
There too, was a smile on Victor's lips, although it was probably for an entirely different reason.
“I will give you a moment to reconsider your course of action. By the time I open my eyes, I would suggest being on your way to take a bath, with full intentions to clean up your mess, as is polite.”
Dainn gave an unimpressed huff and sat up. His backside was sitting just next to Victor's lap but the doctor's potential path was blocked because Dainn had moved an arm around Victor's body to prop himself up on the back of the sofa. "You're too bossy." he remarked simply, one eyebrow as he cast a disdainful look down upon Victor. "And where's my leash and collar? You said you'd get one." At this, Dainn nearly pouted, but the suggestion of one was there in his dejected-sounding voice. Victor's eyes were closed, so Dainn took the opportunity to lean in super close to the doctor's face, noses almost touching, but he didn't move any closer than that.
“Please also understand that I do not like being rude to guests. It is my desire to treat guests with utmost respect, but guests also must understand that the host’s respect and work is not to be flagrantly abused.”
"No," Dainn agreed, with a small nod, "-you like to watch your guests bathing, apparently." His face scrunched up into a (false) disapproving scowl, and for all his hypocrisy, added; "Pervert."
After this, he briskly stood up, just in case Victor took great offense to this and decided to swing a slap. This was followed by a long, lazy stretch and routine clicking of his joints into place, "But fine, I'll take your bath, seeing as you're so desperate to see me in it, I suppose." Like a dog following a command, he trotted purposefully out of the room and hopped up the stairs and headed straight into the bathroom. The cold bathwater was still there from earlier, and Dainn wrinkled his nose up at it. He fumbled around briefly in the half-full tub until he yanked the plug out with a jerking motion, and soon the gurgling sounds of water disappearing down the drain echoed across the walls. While he waited for the bath to empty, he plopped himself down on the edge of the bath, using the porcelain rim as a rather uncomfortable seat. "Victor!" he called out, in case the doctor hadn't decided to follow him up until this point, "I want you to scrub my back." A rather brash request that Dainn doubted Victor would be ever so willing to oblige to, but he asked nonetheless, just to gauge how pissed Victor was at him. He paused for a moment, clicked his tongue, then correct himself; "...sir."
Tags: Vykhlu the Erudite Inspiration: puppy bath-time wheeee Notes: I hope there's enough there for you to reply to urrrrkkk
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