finefuckery | Voice Test: Canon mates and spoilers version

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Voice Test: Canon mates and spoilers version

[ There is suddenly a knife at your throat, and a broad, firm body at your back. Whatever's back there reeks of sweat and blood and booze. The knife presses against the skin of your neck. Not hard enough to draw blood, not yet. ]

Hullo there. No screaming, if you please.

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Much more fond of it when they don't ask - [a long beat] - real nice, now.

Sommat you needed my help with there, [he sniffs at the air, pointedly] --Mister Tall, Dark, and Truly Pissed?

Want to know where I am, mate, and how I got here, if you'd be so kind.

[his face falls, almost comically fast, and his voice, sighing, follows suit.]

Ah. Funny, that. I was hoping that'd be your bag, not mine.

So you've no bloody idea. That's too bad.

[ shrugs and makes to slit his throat ]

Edited 2022-04-03 03:32 (UTC)

None more'n you - oh.

[there's the faint exhale of a giggle from the helltwink as the knife makes to cut - and one hand jerks up at an angle, straight in the air, his other straight to his side, as he yanks the garotte wires attached to the rings on his fingers taught around Teach's fingers and pulls that hand away from his neck.]

Oh. I do love a bloke with rough hands. Didn't even take off a pinky. Care to try again?

Now that's a neat trick.

[ guess we'll just stab him in the back with this other knife ]

[what would it be like to be trying to play this game without vampiric reflexes and agility, Walter wonders. he's well glad whoever has to try and do that isn't him.]

[he slides sideways, elegant and inhuman, and bares all his teeth in a smile as he pirouettes to face the man with all the sharp objects, winking like a right asshole and letting his gaze linger appraisingly on the older-looking fellow's figure.]

Cor. Nice leathers, daddy. But your foreplay skills need a little work.

Edited 2022-04-03 03:51 (UTC)

[ hrm. Waggles his gloved hand, trying to get the wires off. ]

Don't want to hear that from a little fucker yet to have his balls drop.

["is the helltwink licking his lips?!" you may ask, incredulously, to which the narrator must solemnly reply: yes, yes he is, the little bastard.]

I'm older, quite, than I look.

[yanks his hands apart and pulls those shiny strands tighter, till little tears of blood weep from where the wire bites into flesh.]

... that said, I've no real reason to kill you, as yet. So maybe we can start our little rapport all over, and let the foreplay wait a while longer? I'm keen - if you are.

[ It occurs to him suddenly, "this bloke could really kill me," and it's the nicest thought he's had all day. After all, he only hasn't given him reason to kill him yet. ]

Bit hard for you to be younger, mate.

[there's a tongue running across one truly predatory-looking canine - and he lets the wires slacken ... enough.]

Oh, you'd be surprised. 'We've all become God's madmen, all of us' - or so I've read.

[ can he get the stringy off his fingy? ]

So we have, so we have.

[yes. not easily, because if garotte wires were easy to get out of even when not super-taut, they wouldn't be garotte wires - but yes. to make it easier on him, once he's started to struggle with them, Walter makes a twist with his hands and cuts the wires loose from his rings.]

[then he offers a hand, cheekily grinning.]

Name's Walter, cock. And yours?

[ shakes it off, and considers just starting the fight back up so he can get his shit rocked instantly, but also he's genuinely kind of curious about this crazy little fucker. ]

Cheers. 'm Blackbeard.

[Walter, who only looks (for now) like he didn't pay attention to any history class the teacher didn't have enough of either the face of a jackal or tits out to here to keep his interest, perks noticeably.]

Blackbeard, eh? Great bally pirate fuck! Quite, sure. You're having me on, cock! There's no way.

[ well he has no beard, only some stubble filled in with kohl, so there is that. ]

No? How about I take the skin off your sassy little face and throw you in the fucking ocean?

[there's something dark in his face - like the shadows are crawling in the wrong direction, afraid of the bright slash of his smile - as he grins, red eyes narrow little moons in their sockets, hands rising at his side.]

How about I crack open your neck like a beer bottle and drink the life right out of your veins instead, old cock?

I would very much like to see you try.

[ He attempts to keep out of his voice how much he would very much like him to succeed ]

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