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[cagedinflesh]

lockets, compasses or action! or whatever else really

fun roulette, which personality will it be, you just can't know
unless you do know who you want, then say so

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[depicted]

[Let him come closer. Dorian won't flinch back now. Those damned eyes are all he needs to focus himself. He speaks to them, sweet notes, breathy as a clarinet, pleased as a cat.] Were you? How sweet. What do you imagine I asked you to me for?

[cagedinflesh]

Oh, I imagine to chastise me for something or other, but I care not; long as I may look upon this art, listen to your music, I am glad for any purpose.

[depicted]

'Chastise' is a pretty word. But I suppose it fits.

[When he grabs Edward Hyde's neck, he is not half so gentle as he was with Jekyll.] I can't really hurt you, after all. Isn't that so? We aren't even of the same domain. It wouldn't matter to you if I drove my sword through your stomach. I imagine you'd barely feel it as a distraction.

[cagedinflesh]

[Hyde grins, surrendering himself to it entirely. It could be fun.]

Just so. Even Jekyll was unharmed by your attack on his throat, and he is far more weak. Your sword is of no consequence to me, even my clothes shall restitch themselves - would you like to?

[depicted]

I'm thinking about it. But I don't really want to beat you into submission, even if it were possible.

[He considers Hyde's eyes from another angle. Hyde's eyes, and his face, and his terrible smile.]

Rather, I want you to submit to me beating you.

[cagedinflesh]

I am already submitting myself to you.

[He eases his smile into something less villainous, still not Jekyll, but at least more genuine.]

What next?

[depicted]

[Dorian draws his cutlass. But he doesn't turn the edge towards Hyde. Too sharp. Too merciful. Turning it in his hand, he grips the hilt such that he can use the pommel.]

Kneel.

[cagedinflesh]

[It tugs at the corners of his mouth. He appreciates this, really. And so he does as he's told, clasping his hands behind his back.]

Anything for you.

[depicted]

Good.

[So Dorian raises his sword up. He feels the weight of the blade and his arm and the hilt, all on his fist's grip. He feels the potential in the pommel's rounded ending. He feels nothing at all.

And he drives the sword down.

Again and again, again and again and again, he takes all the weight of a weapon and gravity and brings it down on Hyde's face. And he doesn't care if nothing breaks or stays broken, he doesn't care if there is blood or bone, he just takes satisfaction in the doing of it. In the feeling of all that weight slamming into Edward Hyde without mercy for him.]

[cagedinflesh]

[There is blood, there are cracks, but it all heals with ease. After all, he is a Servant with a Master, and an incredibly strong one at that. Lucifer's prana goes to work, again and again, until the boy is finished. Endlessly without question. And if anything, Hyde enjoys it. Not only for the sensation, but to watch Dorian so brutal. His blood rushes, and he grins, absolutely smitten with another monster.]

[depicted]

[Dorian is not done until he is panting with the effort, until every breath offers a violence to his own lungs. Only then does he stop, with blood on the metal of his hilt, on the skin of his knuckles. Only then does he draw away and turn his back on this disgusting creature.]

Leave. Now. I'm done.

[He doesn't wait for Hyde's reply. Dorian calls for Íde, and the creature comes to him, her steps uneasy as she looks at the thing behind Dorian. But Dorian strokes her mane, reassures her. And he doesn't once look back before he flies away.]