[center][h1][b]Collab between Pezz and HokumPocus[/b] [color=f6989d]Svephraey[/color] [color=dde0c7]Octavio[/color][/h1][/center] [hr] [hider][color=f6989d]”More water for the table.”[/color] A male servant muttered as he made his way around the dinner table, refilling everyone’s glass. The man made his way to Octavio last. Delicately, he leaned in close enough to whisper into Ocatvio’s ear as he refilled his glass of water. [color=f6989d]”Little runt, little runt. Not like the other pups.”[/color] The man whispered into Octavio’s ear. With Octavio’s glass now full, the man retreated. Head bowed, the servant hurried his way out of the dining hall and into the corridors beyond. A drop of water speckled the outside of his glass the way sweat dripped down a forehead. Octavio’s fingers pressed around it as if it were his own throat he was crushing. This at least explained their asinine behavior earlier. Svephraey had just transformed Lord Ru’Tev’s manor into the world’s most depressing dollhouse. It irked him on an aesthetic level that she would pick such a sparsely furnished building for such a plan. Then again, he didn’t expect much taste from a woman who harassed people underground for entertainment. [color=dde0c7]“Excuse me!”[/color] he shouted. He beckoned to another servant. What difference would it make? [color=dde0c7]“I had some doubts regarding today’s meal.”[/color] The sudden power inversion was not lost on him. She should’ve let him speak through his own illusions, in the name of tasteful theatrical behavior. In a way, his own weapon was being fashioned against him. He’d play along for now. As the servant drew ever closer, a small crack in his composure formed. [color=dde0c7]“What exactly do you want,”[/color] he hissed. The servant stopped hesitantly as she approached. She gave Octavio a confused look. “What I want?” She blinked and turned her head to look at another nearby servant who merely shook her head and shrugged. Frowning, the servant turned her attention back to Octavio and bowed her head. “My apologies, Master Octavio, but as a professional, I only attend to my needs after my work is done. Now if there is anything else that you need, I would be happy to supply it. Wine? Utensils? Anything within reason.” The words rushed out of him. [color=dde0c7]“Ah, no, that’s fine. There was just something I wanted to figure out about this place.. but I do believe you answered my doubts.”[/color] He took a moment to savor the new complication. Employees of flesh and blood meant he couldn’t go unrestrained with his illusions. People wouldn’t just sit there and accept having several new coworkers with no prior notice. He spotted the original male servant once more, half-expecting the man to return to his ordinary duties. Instead the servant from before arched an eyebrow in amusement and beckoned with his head for Octavio to follow. He then disappeared down the hall again. Octavio tidied his area and left. Any announcements of departure would be met with questioning, and he had about as much of the answers as they did. There were too many strong personalities involved, too many ways trust could weaken. He shot a look at his plate as he left for the hall. Could Svephraey not have let him enjoy a nice meal for about, say, ten minutes? The male servant gave a predatory smile as Octavio approached his hallway retreat. [color=f6989d]”Subtle.”[/color] He said with clear amusement. He glanced down at Octavio’s metal bracelet. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. [color=f6989d]”Orange.”[/color] He said, noting the color of the bracelet. [color=f6989d]”Interesting color to wear in a prison, don’t you think?”[/color] He looked down at the accessory as if he were aware of it for the first time. [color=dde0c7]“Could’ve been worse. This entire manor is hard to look at, really. You’re not helping either.”[/color] The man’s smile widened, at the words, in an almost secretive way. His eyes lingered on the bracelet for a half a second longer before meeting Octavio’s gaze. There was no attempt to play along now that no one else was near. His treatment of the servant was akin to an artist judging a rival’s work. [color=dde0c7]“This one should’ve had a mark on it or something. Perhaps then I wouldn’t have made a fool of myself at dinner.” [/color] Tempting as it was to point out how inorganic the man’s smile seemed, she was probably doing that on purpose. He almost wished he had a parchment to keep track of his critiques. [color=dde0c7]“This had better be a pressing matter. This thing doesn’t eat, but I do.”[/color] [color=f6989d]”This… thing?”[/color] The man tilted his head to his side innocently. Again his smile widened in a knowing way. But this time there was almost a coldness in his eyes with perhaps a hint of blood lust. [color=f6989d]”It sounds to me like someone seems to know way more about the master’s capabilities than they should… Should I kill him?”[/color] His fingers twitched eagerly as if ready to pull a weapon out of nowhere. He waited for a second as if anticipating a reply. He then blinked. His smile grew colder but his fingers stopped twitching. [color=f6989d]”No? Alright then.”[/color] His gaze seemed to refocus on Octavio. [color=f6989d]”The master seems to be okay with you having guessed her identity and with you being aware of the whispers surrounding her. How fortunate for you.”[/color] He said, insincerely. [color=dde0c7]Not exactly a secret when you start playing surprise tag with strangers underground.[/color] It was tempting to blurt that out, but it revealed an interesting detail to the man. The servant didn’t, or at least feigned not knowing the details of him and Svephraey’s encounter. Were these illusions of hers not just light constructs made by a psychopath? From any other person he’d assume it was a subtle way to sow doubt, but Svephraey didn’t do subtle. She did nursery rhymes and threats of bodily harm. [color=f6989d]”Speaking of which, we’re glad to see you still alive and well. Tell us… love…-”[/color] His grin deepend with the last word. [color=f6989d]”-how many attempts on your life has Ophelia made since we last spoke?”[/color] His tone had a sort of hunger to it. His eyes seemed to twinkle, almost as if he already knew the answer to the question. [color=f6989d]”Surely more than one.”[/color] Another piece enters the board. It could’ve been a status report from monitoring her, it could’ve been a rumor. There was even a good chance Svephraey had just made an educated guess, tailored to Octavio’s insecurities. It wouldn’t be the first time she laid it all out. But those conclusions were too neat. Where was the theater in playing audience and not actor? It led him to the worst possible conclusion. Some sort of alliance or mutual agreement between the two. [color=dde0c7]“You’d think the amount of times isn’t quite a concern. It’s one of those things in life you just have to get right once, you know.”[/color] He wondered if his words would be relayed to her somehow. [color=dde0c7]“I suppose I’m not surprised at her shenanigans. There’s not much appreciation for the arts in that woman. Or the talent for them.”[/color] [color=f6989d]”Talent?”[/color] The servant chuckled softly, his accent morphing to mimic the melodic rhythm and tone of Sveprhaey's own accent, though it was done with an intentionally heavy hand, as if meant to confuse and mislead. [color=f6989d]”No. She failed that test the first time she tried to take your life all those years ago… love. Perhaps that’s why I… take such interest in a pup like you.”[/color] The servant let the comment sink in before continuing, [color=f6989d]”But perhaps it is best not to dwell on the past. Afterall, it’s not like I… wanted you dead; it’s more like we needed her to prove that she could do it. Not to mention it was her choice to accept the job in the first place, love.”[/color] The man smiled tauntingly. [color=f6989d]”Regardless, I can make the attempts on your life stop, but it’s going to require you to do a little something for me in return… A little something that I haven’t quite decided on yet.”[/color] The man smiled maliciously. [color=f6989d]”You’ll hear from me soon, love. Please do try to stay alive until then.”[/color] A hidden knife appeared in the man’s hand. [color=f6989d]”For now, though, I do apologize for the clean up.”[/color] The man’s expression suddenly changed to confusion. [color=f6989d]”Clean up?”[/color] He repeated. This time he spoke with his initial accent. His confused look turned to a horrific realization as he raised the knife to his own neck. [color=f6989d]”No! Wait!”[/color] He panicked. His expression returned to that of a calm smile as the very tip of the blade dug into his neck. [color=f6989d]”Just remember, love,-”[/color] He was back to using Svephraey’s accent. [color=f6989d]”-The Marionetteer is always watching.”[/color] His smile widened in a twisted way as the knife dug deeper. [color=f6989d]”From anyone, anywhere. Anybody could be one of my little knives.”[/color] The man grabbed the knife with his other hand. [color=f6989d]”I’m still useful! I have more to give!”[/color] Whatever had gotten into him didn’t seem to pay any mind to his pleading. [color=f6989d]”Sleep tight, little pup.”[/color] He said in Svephraey’s voice. The blade sliced through the man's throat, and his lifeless body crumpled to the ground. Instantly, he was no more. It was a strange death. Typically, a wound of that nature would prolong a person's suffering, but in this case, the servant remained eerily still. No gasps for air, no desperate struggle for life. No additional blood pooling from his body aside from the blood he spilled from the initial cut. The man simply lay there, life extinguished. [hr] Svephraey opened her eyes, keenly aware of the blood trickling down her neck. Normally, when killing one of her Splinters, Svephraey would simply sever the connection. It was quick, easy, and not at all messy. More importantly, it avoided having the Splinter’s wounds from scarring her own body. This time, however, she needed to send Octavio a message. A fortunate thing it was that her powers allowed for such warnings to be sent. For a Splinter’s wound took time to fully transfer onto its master. By cutting off the connection shortly after slicing the splinter’s neck, she had avoided taking on the wound in its entirety. With a sigh, she rose from her meditative position and took a moment to gaze upon herself in the nearby mirror. Her blood had made a stain on her white elongated turtleneck. With a tsk, she removed her sweater revealing her naked body and all its scars underneath. Every one of those scars told a story. Tales of assassination attempts by her own splinters. Stories of careless acts while out on a job. Some were even records from the time before she usurped the previous Marionetteer… A time when she herself had been a splinter. A time when she was forced to act according to her master’s will. Funny how that had barely changed even after the Kharu-Natjier intervened on her behalf. Svephraey pulled out a new set of clothes and dressed herself. Now was not the time to reminisce. Afterall, the Marionetteer now had an empty slot for new Splinter. Exiting her room, she headed out into the night, ready to look for the poor soul whose life she was about to end. [/hider]