Alexi lets the water calm his nerves, the story obviously having disturbed the other male, however by his very nature the human decides to wait until Erik speaks to try and begin conversing again. [i]'I know when I am upset I like taking a minute to compose myself before speaking. It helps keep me from emotional outbursts, and as he is a much more powerful man with a raging temper, I am glad he sees the wisdom in waiting'[/i] However as the vampire starts talking it becomes increasingly clear that he'd not waited quite long enough.

As Erik's voice grown in volume Alexi has to refrain from covering his ears and tucking his head into his chest. Images from his past flash before his eyes reminding him of a time he's much rather forget. His heart slides up into his throat and he fights the panic without moving a muscle other than the involuntary ones. His eyes never waver from a spot in the water, his gaze a million miles away, however as the echoes of his voice fade his thoughts begin becoming coherent once more His attention is caught for an instant by an odd colored gleam in the water and as he glances at it he realizes just how angry the rebel leader is and if he were not collared Alexi would be actually afraid for his life.

Falling back on his front of a calm collected man who doesn't let himself get ruffled he begins answering the questions and accusations in a soft hollow tone. “The others captured in the raid were put to work in one of my factories. Since I arranged the sting and financed it I was given every magical that was captured. None were killed, though a few are still recovering from near fatal wounds. It was one of my stipulations in aiding the strike that they try to preserve life. They were successful in that.” His breathing is shallow but he plows on, ignoring the slight waver in his voice every few sentences.

“None have been broken, and I have no plan of letting it happen. They have my top notch control devices, and as much as you hate them, you can not lie and tell me they are not more humane than breaking.” He shifts a little, moving ever so slightly away from Erik subconsciously. “As for the importance of this, as far as you are concerned there is no good reason, so it is pointless to share it with you.” His voice is still calm as he finally manages to look over at the larger male. “I am a selfish spoiled brat who is used to getting what he wants and has decided that what he wants is the end of all this foolish race idiocy with the money and means to do precisely that, or at least give your long down trodden fellows a chance to live their lives completely freely if not in complete happiness.”

Swallowing hard his voice falters a little bit as his emotions surge, mixing with the pain of Erik's hate and loathing driving like a dagger through his innards. “I have little interest in what you think of me, or have thought of me in the past, however whatever else I have done or will do in my life I ask you not forget that I have devoted my short existence to your cause, dealing with people I would rather see floating face first in a vat of excrement then have to even be in the same room with.” He can feel his tears welling up as the dagger in his guts twists. “The slaves will be freed, and by your own hand so many more will be given the chance to recover from the hell they have been put through at the hands of my race, so please forgive me if I do not completely hate my race and put a few of your precious soldiers through the hell of a good meal, warm beds, and no chance of getting killed in the few weeks before there will no longer be such a thing as slavery beyond those who I am asking you to help me save.”

The pain finally becomes too much. The mix of his own resurfaced horrors and Erik's hatred combining chokes off his words and his hand snaps over his mouth. Sanding up he manages to turn and lean forward over the tiles outside of the tub before his stomach turns inside out, painting the tiles with bile and whatever remnants of breakfast remains in his stomach. Once the bout passes he drops to his knees on the inner ledge, sobbing lightly. “Oh god Erik, this self loathing and hate. . . .How. . . .God. . . .” His hair falls into the upchuck as he curl up against the edge of the tub, his forehead resting against a clean spot on the floor. His hands cross over his middle as wave after wave of painful emotions besets him.