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Post by Victor von Doom on Nov 8, 2011 16:35:48 GMT -5
"That will be provided for. As you've certainly guessed, I am the absolute monarch and lord of Latveria, whom you will address as such."
Victor was rather pleased that he'd fallen into line without needing to be asked, though a cold stone floor and a throne flanked with trophy armor usually had that sort of effect on anyone worth playing host to.
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Post by Tybalt on Nov 8, 2011 16:41:53 GMT -5
Tybalt shivered.
"....yes, my lord."
He was too fearful and awed to be properly confused, but now that the future seemed much less hostile, he could be confused in earnest. Why was he sparing his life- more than that, feeding him? Was he going to contact the Capulets? Asking him to do so seemed to be pressing too much and it did not really occur to Tybalt to ask.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Nov 8, 2011 17:29:00 GMT -5
Doom rose to his feet, which was terrible to see even if you were used to his full size. He loomed; it was like seeing a mountain shift itself. One of the guards who had first hauled Tybalt in flitted forward with trepidation, receiving a barked order to prepare a table for the two of them and hurrying off in discomfort. (And so he should have.)
He left Tybalt to shiver for a while before speaking again.
"Relate to your lord, then, how this girl came to find you."
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Post by Tybalt on Nov 8, 2011 17:43:08 GMT -5
Tybalt felt fear generally reserved for God. If he had attended church, though it was established he didn't, it was the kind of thing that would have kept him from ever going again.
"....my lord, I - woke in an alley hungover and began to go to the Capu- to the estate of my family and I realized I did not recognize the streets. I had a fit and the girl found me."
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Post by Victor von Doom on Nov 8, 2011 18:03:00 GMT -5
Beneath the mask, Doom's eyes were completely calm. The hitched word intrigued him, however.
"Is that so? How long have you been having fits?"
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Post by Tybalt on Nov 8, 2011 18:03:57 GMT -5
Tybalt's eyes lowered. "Since my childhood," he mumbled.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Nov 8, 2011 18:07:27 GMT -5
Had Tybalt been younger and less dangerous, he'd have gotten a pat on his shoulder.
"You'll have medical attention too, once your loyalty's been assured. Who were you drinking with?"
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Post by Tybalt on Nov 8, 2011 18:08:44 GMT -5
Tybalt was starting to look freaked out, though this was in many ways his default expression.
"-a- a- a man-"
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Post by Victor von Doom on Nov 8, 2011 18:31:12 GMT -5
This would rapidly become tiresome. Being struck with wordless awe by Doom's presence was one thing, but this man likely had a concussion as well as a hangover, and was lying on top of it. Reprimanding him for so holding back would have been satisfying, but it would also have left him a whimpering heap on the floor.
"Ah," Doom said, somewhat crossly, and did lay that heavy, gauntleted hand on Tybalt's bare shoulder. He martialled his own thoughts, and made his first forays into his guest's mind.
Without any kind of mechanical support or underpinnings of spellwork, this mind-reading was only a parlor trick -- no emotions, no innermost thoughts, only a faint impression of the past 24 hours or so like a (usually very boring) silent film. Safer than an exchange of minds by leaps and bounds, but no substitute for what could be extracted by other means. Wading around in the unfamiliar thoughts of a half-concussed, still-sedated, frightened epileptic rendered little of use. It at least established he'd been unconscious, and corroborated his interactions with the girl and having woken up within Latveria's borders. The further Victor touched upon, the more immaterial and flimsy the man's memories became, probably a result of the drink, but it was difficult to stop once he'd entered the bog of recollection, and he sought any familiar face--
...well. That man was not Reed Richards.
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Post by Tybalt on Nov 8, 2011 18:41:28 GMT -5
Tybalt did not realize what had happened, but he was very shaken up by whatever it was, and his proximity to this - being. Whatever it was he knew somehow it was connected to this ruler, and, from the placement of his gauntleted hand, it seemed to be deliberate. Tybalt had very clearly shrunken away from him, and shivered under the touch of cool heavy metal against bare skin.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Nov 8, 2011 18:49:07 GMT -5
Doom drew back, mild distaste curling his lip.
"A man, you say."
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Post by Tybalt on Nov 8, 2011 18:52:02 GMT -5
"- yes."
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Post by Victor von Doom on Nov 8, 2011 19:16:12 GMT -5
Doom felt a little unclean. That at least explained the dubious nature of some of the roughing-up he'd received.
"...never mind. Dine with me, and describe this man."
At last a table and chairs were carried in (he made a mental note of the delay); Doom took up his goblet again and gestured for Tybalt to sit.
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Post by Tybalt on Nov 8, 2011 19:21:02 GMT -5
Tybalt's eyes widened. "I- I don't-"
Tongue-tied and a little clammy, wrists still chained together, he sat, looking far more like a scared child than a grown-man whose body showed every sign of ongoing, intense martial training.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Nov 8, 2011 19:32:33 GMT -5
"Take as much time as you need."
Offering oysters and wine to a man whose last memories before blacking out was a vigorous sexual encounter in an alleyway seemed like a bit of an unkind joke. Besides, Doom was still getting the hang of mariculture for personal consumption. He sent away the shellfish and his servant returned promptly with cured meat. And, upon some prompting, the other returned with a key, a fresh shirt, and an apology.
"I understand my men were rather rough with you. The rest of your stay here in Doomstadt should be more comfortable--"
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