the safe-space inside your head // varro

For a long time now, Varro learned to master the ways of being discreet even despite his tendency to spurn shirts. Following Hector’s lead, he sauntered into alleys with his hands slipped inside his pockets. The town the duo traveled in was known for its blood sacrifices, which boded well with him. Maybe in exploring that location he would find ways of bolstering his own power. In fact, he recently found work in there—it was the second time that month he performed a hit within Samuelsonite Town. The first one included a man and a pig…

He heard from word of mouth this individual was exceptionally annoying. Not Hector, but the person the two intended to murder that day. Unspoken words no doubt holstered within the sanctuary of their mind, because the lack of a spine in their back. Varro was the opposite; if he had a problem with somebody, he let them know. Usually in the most violent ways, which was the means he enjoyed handling things the most. Utter wanton bloodshed.

Posed with a question from Hector, he raised his hand and rubbed it along the side of his neck. Approaching the food joint alongside him, he spoke on the strange reason even he knew little about, when it came to his reason for being within the newfound organization.

”Information. Woke up one day not knowing much at all, wanted to find out more about that and janitorial duty has a large network of information to work with. The more I move up the ranks, the more leniency I’ll have with that hopefully,” he said, before a momentary pause. ”That and "cleaning" is fun. Who doesn’t like eating?”

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Hector de Maris | Post 1 | 281/281

Hearing about Hector’s aspirations, he seemed to be attentive to it regardless of its relevance. Especially when the power of a dragon was mentioned, implicating that such might coursed through the feline’s veins. In his recent days, his experience with beasts of such stature was limited. Whatever the man encountered before he woke up, he was not privy to. A sense of familiarity overcame him when he heard the word, and from what he heard about them recently, the species was synonymous with power.

Before he could usher a response to the words and pose a question towards this supernatural might, the duo were interjected with telepathic chatter from the restaurant itself. Though, to some extent, they were warned of this—she had no idea of the sheer extent. Body language was what he thought initially, people killed for less, but this; this was truly something else. Clicking his tongue in response, he listened to the remainder of her rant.

”What a cowardly bitch,” Varro said, brushing his fingers through his hair and pulling them back out of irritation. Though not one for empathy, he could understand why an individual would want to kill a person such as this. Already, thoughts about how creative he could be when butchering this individual coursed through his mind. Mostly because he had a feeling the incessant thoughts were going to be directed towards him in time, and though he usually couldn’t care less, something about that pussyfooting rubbed him the wrong way.

”I don’t give two shits about doing the world any favours, but this is going to be one satisfying cleaning.”

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Hector de Maris | Post 2 | 281/550

Varro directed his attention towards the approximate dumpster. While it was not the cleanest object to conceal oneself in, such a detail was irrelevant. It was ideal for the art of remaining covert, which was a quality Bloodcrest prioritized over anything else. Akin to a sniper, one would sit still, wading in their own shit and piss if it meant getting the ripe opportunity for taking out their mark. To boot, this was not nearly as graphic and disgusting as that practice—and from the looks of things, the duo would not have to wait long for their target’s arrival.

”Good idea, Hector. It might be cramped depending on how much is in there, but it gives us visibility on them and keeps us out of sight,” Varro replied, before making his way towards the dumpster in question. Smoke breaks, a place to hide, these were all vital parts of the plan. While walking in and murdering her was easy, doing the kill without drawing notice from others was the challenging part. Hector located their means of doing that, and he would put in a good word about his efforts to Mint.

Opening up the latch, he climbed into the garbage disposal and readied himself. For now, he did not prepare any of his abilities. If he did, the scent of blood might alert the target. Varro wanted them to be as unsuspecting as possible, limiting the possibility of witnesses and attention being drawn. Creeping closer to the opening, he made room for the feline while he peered out towards the place he expected passive aggression’s embodiment to show up.

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Hector de Maris | Post 3 | 270/820

The idea of slashing open a windpipe and allowing the crimson décor to paint the victim’s body and the ground beneath them appealed to the man, who raised his head in acknowledgment of the feat. An idea formed in his mind; when he mentioned his fire magic, and the claws, he started to think about ways that could be implemented into a more covert weapon. One that would be horrific, painful, and efficient.

”If you think of the body like butter, and your claws like a hot knife, I bet you could…” Before he could finish his sentence, the man quieted down. Two people emerged from the confines of the restaurant. One appeared to be a manager, while the other was a humorless midget. Every ounce of her warped personality manifested on her surface, and it wasn’t the fun type of warped, either. A sniveling, spineless mutt with venom in their mind but no their fangs. He didn’t care what people did, but there was an alluring part about murdering this individual.

Seeing Hector’s gaze directed towards him, the man nodded in response. Reaching forward with his hand, he initiated his assault—but it manifested in a different way than imagined. Though he failed to answer the feline’s question before, he managed to deliver in the discretion he exuded through his next series of actions.

Manipulating the body, even up to the throat and vocal cords, of the manager adjacent to the woman, he seized control of their body. Their first action was to grab her by the mouth, preventing her from speaking, before tackling her to the ground and using her impaired breathing to their advantage. His meat puppet would then grab them by the throat, and begin to apply enough pressure to their carotids to induce deep bruising.

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Hector de Maris | Post 4 | 300/1120