Practice Time ayo
- Locked due to inactivity on Jul 19, '23 3:54am
Thread Topic: Practice Time ayo
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"That wasn't so hard, was it? Call me Question. Unless you'd rather call me Master." He took a knife from his back pocket, placing the tip under Jaime's chin. "No matter what you choose to call me, I'd like to make one thing clear."
He leaned closer, his gaze intense as he put more pressure on the blade. "I'm the one in charge here. Okay?" -
"If you say so," Jaime said, trying not to move his jaw too much in case the knife cut him. He looked at Question with nearly an equal intensity, waiting to see what he would do. He had decided that there was no way he was going to call him 'Master,' so as strange a name as Question was, he'd stick with that.
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Question tilted his wrist so the knife moved to the side, lifting his arm and swinging it down in Jaime's direction. The dim light reflected off its blade as it cut through the air.
Thwack! The rope binding Jaime was severed, releasing him from its tight hold. Question sheathed the knife. "Now don't get any ideas. There's nothing around for miles and miles and I have many, many guards. You'll be a dead man before you can do so much as scream."
He chuckled. "It would be fun to chase you, like a mouse running from a cat. Helpless and entirely under my mercy. But no, I don't want you killed just yet. So you'll be a good boy and behave, won't you?" -
"I will," Jaime said, but unbeknownst to Question he had his fingers crossed. After he said it he uncrossed his fingers and stood, rubbing the places on his arms the ropes had dug into.
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"Hmm. For a troublemaker, you aren't putting up as much of a fight as I thought," Question said with a shrug. No doubt he's playing the long game. Very well. I will not allow him an opportunity to betray me. He seized Jaime's wrist, twisting it to get a better look at the marks on his arms. "Beautiful, isn't it? The imprint it leaves. I've left nothing on you that'll scar."
He smiled, his milky white eyes fixated on Jaime's face. "At least not yet, anyway. By the time I'm through with you, you will be a masterpiece fit for the gods themselves." -
"You talk a lot, you know," Jaime commented as he crossed his arms. "Quite honestly I'd rather you didn't blather out every thought you had."
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"Oh, my dear Jaime," Question laughed. "Who ever cared what you thought? A single word from me can massacre hundreds; an entire speech from you couldn't harm one."
He brushed his thumb against the hilt of his blade, as if itching to unsheathe it. "You know, I browsed your files. Such juicy tidbits I found there. Family history, school life, even your doctor's appointments. Every movement, every little twitch is all there."
His eyes glinted with malice. "Everyone has secrets, Jaime. They're meant to be revealed." -
"So you won't mind when I find out yours," Jaime said. "How generous."
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"You will soon learn that anything you could discover is nothing I seek to hide. Come, you look famished," Question said, sweeping to the side to allow Jaime to pass through the door. Two heavily armed guards stood on either side, their expressions stony.
"I hope you won't mind our chaperones." -
"I do but I suppose I don't have a choice, do I," Jaime muttered. "So what's your actual name?"
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"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet," Question quoted cheerfully. "Shakespeare. Why does it matter?"
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"Because I'm wondering why you go by a name such as strange as 'Question,' if it doesn't matter what you go by," Jaime answered.
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"I am often questioned. My motives, my desires," he said, examining his nails as he walked down the hallway. "It suits me. Don't you think?"
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"I suppose so," Jaime said. He wondered where they were walking, if they would meet this "family" when they arrived.
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"Tell me about yourself, Jaime. Not that I don't know, but I'd prefer to hear it from your words. It's much more fun that way," Question hummed, glancing at his wrist as if he had a watch on.
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