Post by Miss Jack on Mar 18, 2009 21:51:33 GMT -5
He wasn’t sure why he chose such a late hour. Night was really a relative term for Nightmares, and often busier than daylight hours. But anyone he knew, or cared if they knew what he was doing, would be sleeping off hunger and exhaustion right now.
He knew immediately when Iker had arrived, like a vague tickling of déjà-vu in the back of his mind; Iker’s presence was unpleasantly familiar to his psyche. His former counterpart stood at the mouth of the alleyway for a few moments, his dark form silhouetted by the faint rays of the obscured moon.
“Sorry I’m late,” Iker purred, moving forward, a cold smile bowing his lips in a wide-V shape. “You did sound so… urgent, but you know how it is…”
Armand didn’t answer, his eyes scanning over Iker’s thin face, particularly the sunken shadows under his black eyes. He returned the smile with an equal amount of pitiless dislike. “You look hungry.”
“That’s because I am, Your Highness,” Iker replied saccharinely. “But I won’t have you worrying over me, and besides,” his smile grew pointed, “I have some… assistance.”
Iker didn’t expect Armand to demand to know who had helped him, and his expectations were not disappointed. The prince merely looked at him, blank of emotion, yet his eyes were clearly circling through thoughts at a rapid pace. When he at last spoke, each word was spaced and bitten off as if every syllable caused him physical pain to say. “I need your help.”
Iker’s eyes gleamed. “I know. I didn’t expect you simply wanted to catch up. And understand, Armand, that your needs are of no concern to me, and I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t need something from you in return.”
This brought Armand’s flat expression to a halt, his eyes widening slightly. He could think of nothing he had that Iker would want, or couldn’t get on his own.
“Your body,” Iker explained.
“My body?”
“Yes,” Iker said, with a drawl of impatience. “If you’re going to repeat everything I say, this will be a long conversation.”
Armand’s eyes narrowed and his head turned just slightly. “You have a body,” he said, trying not to let his confusion show.
“It certainly appears so, doesn’t it?” Iker smiled in his cold, anti-smile way, flourishing both hands like a ringmaster. “And yet it was not created by human subconscious, or by the physical union of flesh created by human subconscious. Human subconscious, frankly, has nothing to do with my birth, and it is this weakness that renders me… hungry, as you so graciously pointed out.”
Armand pressed his lips together. Zizzy needed Iker—but what would she say if he gave up his own will to ensure her freedom? “I don’t—“
Predicting his train of thought, Iker held up a hand. “I’m not asking you to relinquish your body, Prince. I’m asking you to share it.” He sounded slightly disgusted saying it, but he knew, from experience, Armand was not a host that would easily bend to another being’s will. In time, maybe, but for now, it would have to be a willing collaboration on both sides.
Armand considered this, aware of the passing seconds as they hurried on in his unproductive silence. “Fine,” he said at last, quietly.
It was Iker’s turn to look shocked. “Fine?” he echoed.
“Yes, fine,” Armand snapped. “If you’re going to repeat everything I say, this will be a long conversation.”
“Sensitive,” Iker commented lightly. “I didn’t expect an acceptance so readily. Whatever you need from me must be gravely important.”
Some of Armand’s erect posture drooped. “It’s Zizzy.”
“Of course it is.” Iker smiled an entirely different way, his eyelids acquiring a somewhat listless droop.
“There’s a Night Terror possessing her. Vilmos…?”
Iker’s black eyes flickered with recognition. “Yes, I know him. One of the more stupid of my brothers, I’m sorry to say. Of course, none of them are nearly as articulate as I am, having played prisoner to an intelligent member of the royal family for nearly two centuries.” Familiar resentment momentarily clouded his face as he focused again on Armand. “I do remember Zizzy’s anger very acutely, so I suppose she is a liable host. She never handles problems well, does she?”
Armand’s face hardened as he visibly checked his anger. “I need you to get him out.”
“Naturally.” He tossed a careless hand at his side. “Though, I have to warn you, stupid he may be, weak he is not. Getting him to release his hold may not be as simple as you think.”
“As difficult as feeding yourself without a body?”
“There’s no need to threaten me, Armand. I’m merely informing you lest you think I’m not trying to the best of my ability.” He paused. “Also, if and when you do get her back, I wouldn’t recommend telling Zizzy about our… reunion.”
“I know,” Armand replied softly. For once they agreed.
“Well then.” Armand took a startled step back as Iker suddenly moved forward, directly in front of his face. “Move over.”
He knew immediately when Iker had arrived, like a vague tickling of déjà-vu in the back of his mind; Iker’s presence was unpleasantly familiar to his psyche. His former counterpart stood at the mouth of the alleyway for a few moments, his dark form silhouetted by the faint rays of the obscured moon.
“Sorry I’m late,” Iker purred, moving forward, a cold smile bowing his lips in a wide-V shape. “You did sound so… urgent, but you know how it is…”
Armand didn’t answer, his eyes scanning over Iker’s thin face, particularly the sunken shadows under his black eyes. He returned the smile with an equal amount of pitiless dislike. “You look hungry.”
“That’s because I am, Your Highness,” Iker replied saccharinely. “But I won’t have you worrying over me, and besides,” his smile grew pointed, “I have some… assistance.”
Iker didn’t expect Armand to demand to know who had helped him, and his expectations were not disappointed. The prince merely looked at him, blank of emotion, yet his eyes were clearly circling through thoughts at a rapid pace. When he at last spoke, each word was spaced and bitten off as if every syllable caused him physical pain to say. “I need your help.”
Iker’s eyes gleamed. “I know. I didn’t expect you simply wanted to catch up. And understand, Armand, that your needs are of no concern to me, and I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t need something from you in return.”
This brought Armand’s flat expression to a halt, his eyes widening slightly. He could think of nothing he had that Iker would want, or couldn’t get on his own.
“Your body,” Iker explained.
“My body?”
“Yes,” Iker said, with a drawl of impatience. “If you’re going to repeat everything I say, this will be a long conversation.”
Armand’s eyes narrowed and his head turned just slightly. “You have a body,” he said, trying not to let his confusion show.
“It certainly appears so, doesn’t it?” Iker smiled in his cold, anti-smile way, flourishing both hands like a ringmaster. “And yet it was not created by human subconscious, or by the physical union of flesh created by human subconscious. Human subconscious, frankly, has nothing to do with my birth, and it is this weakness that renders me… hungry, as you so graciously pointed out.”
Armand pressed his lips together. Zizzy needed Iker—but what would she say if he gave up his own will to ensure her freedom? “I don’t—“
Predicting his train of thought, Iker held up a hand. “I’m not asking you to relinquish your body, Prince. I’m asking you to share it.” He sounded slightly disgusted saying it, but he knew, from experience, Armand was not a host that would easily bend to another being’s will. In time, maybe, but for now, it would have to be a willing collaboration on both sides.
Armand considered this, aware of the passing seconds as they hurried on in his unproductive silence. “Fine,” he said at last, quietly.
It was Iker’s turn to look shocked. “Fine?” he echoed.
“Yes, fine,” Armand snapped. “If you’re going to repeat everything I say, this will be a long conversation.”
“Sensitive,” Iker commented lightly. “I didn’t expect an acceptance so readily. Whatever you need from me must be gravely important.”
Some of Armand’s erect posture drooped. “It’s Zizzy.”
“Of course it is.” Iker smiled an entirely different way, his eyelids acquiring a somewhat listless droop.
“There’s a Night Terror possessing her. Vilmos…?”
Iker’s black eyes flickered with recognition. “Yes, I know him. One of the more stupid of my brothers, I’m sorry to say. Of course, none of them are nearly as articulate as I am, having played prisoner to an intelligent member of the royal family for nearly two centuries.” Familiar resentment momentarily clouded his face as he focused again on Armand. “I do remember Zizzy’s anger very acutely, so I suppose she is a liable host. She never handles problems well, does she?”
Armand’s face hardened as he visibly checked his anger. “I need you to get him out.”
“Naturally.” He tossed a careless hand at his side. “Though, I have to warn you, stupid he may be, weak he is not. Getting him to release his hold may not be as simple as you think.”
“As difficult as feeding yourself without a body?”
“There’s no need to threaten me, Armand. I’m merely informing you lest you think I’m not trying to the best of my ability.” He paused. “Also, if and when you do get her back, I wouldn’t recommend telling Zizzy about our… reunion.”
“I know,” Armand replied softly. For once they agreed.
“Well then.” Armand took a startled step back as Iker suddenly moved forward, directly in front of his face. “Move over.”