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Post by Tybalt on Jan 12, 2012 0:27:22 GMT -5
Tybalt was not even especially relaxed in sleep, for this was not the sleep of a calm and peaceful mind but rather that of an injured and drained body; his muscles were tight and his expression somewhat troubled, as always.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Jan 12, 2012 0:37:40 GMT -5
In fact, Doom hadn't been able to perceive that he'd dropped off. As soon as that became immediately evident, the great tyrant himself shifted uncomfortably, readying almost to lift him. The man's character showed in his face -- severe lines and angles, but a strange delicacy, still evident when he was in motion but all the more appealing when he was now still. He was a very striking youth. There was a vulnerability behind his stern front, and it was appealing to one with his own silenced inner depths.
This was not a very good train of thought.
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 12, 2012 0:39:42 GMT -5
He didn't stir. He was very much out.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Jan 12, 2012 0:41:27 GMT -5
He picked him up gingerly, ignoring the spellbooks and discarded magical apparatuses that still littered their erstwhile workspace, and carried him off to a safer place.
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 12, 2012 0:47:51 GMT -5
Tybalt drifted uneasily in and out of consciousness for some while before gaining full lucidity. Realizing dimly that he was conscious, and reminded of what had happened, explained why his fuzzy memories of those brief moments was so non-sexual and non-violent; he had assumed he was having an unusual, for him, dream. But no, this was the Doctor Doom of his waking hours, not his sleeping ones. He did not know if he was relieved or not. He was too weak, he decided, to have any feelings at all. Would that he could be always so dead to his feelings.
"...my lord?" he ventured hoarsely, his dark eyes open and lucid and trained frowningly on Doom.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Jan 12, 2012 0:52:08 GMT -5
He had exchanged his gauntlets for a pair with slightly more precise articulation, and was leaned over the table, working on cleaning Tybalt's wounds like he was repairing an extremely valuable clock. It was not a courtesy he would have afforded to a waking man. But burns, even magical ones, were a particular concern of his, not something he could leave be.
Generally he didn't have mundane human beings on this table, but there was a first time for everything.
"Don't think of moving. Doom is undertaking a rather delicate procedure."
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 12, 2012 0:58:55 GMT -5
Tybalt didn't nod, but met his eyes and locked with them. Strange, perhaps he was delirious, but he was suddenly quite aware that Doom was a man in armour and a mask and a cloak, and that all of them had attachments and would come off. It was odd to think on it and he had never seen it so clearly as meeting his amber eyes now to affirm Doom's command over him. He lay dead weight on the table, cataloguing in his mind, as he could not look and touch with his own hands, his every injury. It was a long moment before he realized that the pains were burns, clearly inflicted from the chain and pendant of his locket becoming intensely heated, and though he did not move, he tensed very suddenly.
"Giulietta-"
His great fear was that his one tie to his cousin had been destroyed due to his own incompetence in Doom's great arts-
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Post by Victor von Doom on Jan 12, 2012 1:04:55 GMT -5
Doom glanced sideways at him, momentarily aware of his own eyelashes and what an absurd bother they seemed under the mask.
"The chain and locket were absorbing energy rapidly, in all probability due to their personal significance to the spellcaster as much as their material. I took the liberty of removing them."
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 12, 2012 1:06:19 GMT -5
"Are they... intact?"
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Post by Victor von Doom on Jan 12, 2012 1:07:23 GMT -5
"Yes. The portrait of the girl is undamaged."
The girl, whoever she might be, now had a name.
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 12, 2012 1:12:23 GMT -5
Tybalt slowly unknotted his muscles - somewhat.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Jan 12, 2012 1:13:43 GMT -5
"She means a great deal to you," Doom ventured. "Lie still -- with luck you might not even be left with a scar."
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 12, 2012 1:16:59 GMT -5
"I would not care either way," said Tybalt, though not argumentatively. He was very easily distracted mourning the loss of his cousin.
"...she is.... all and the only thing... that makes me regret to be in service to a man as great as you," he said almost wistfully, in a voice so near a whisper it was shocking that he could even speak without a growl in his voice.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Jan 12, 2012 1:24:18 GMT -5
"She is fortunate to have so loyal a guardian. Even at a distance."
A sweetheart? A sister? A cousin? A particularly dear and cherished childhood friend? Few things made him think of Valeria these days, but Tybalt's clear unhappiness and what he had glimpsed of the girl's face in the scuffle did.
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 12, 2012 1:27:29 GMT -5
"It shames me that I have so easily let my concerns for my family slide... all but that for her. A girl is too easily violated-"
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