Reaper's got your name [Nascour]

[rylan]

Hunger is a powerful motivator, perhaps even stronger than disgust. As soon as Nascour leaves, Rylan heads back to his room, where he gulps the soup. All too soon, he's left with nothing but an empty, greasy bowl and spoon.

He's debating finding something else to make- provided it's packaged- as he walks back down the hallway towards the kitchen, bowl and spoon in hand.

[nascour]

You feel that, Rylan?

That's a six-foot-seven albino monster ramming into you, aiming to pin you right into the wall.

And he doesn't look happy.

"Oh, Rylan," says Nascour, that Southern twang oh-so-pleasant as usual, "and here I thought we could be friends."

[rylan]

This? Was not what Rylan was expecting. He should have, but no. And of course, he struggles, not that it gets him anymore. He's being pinned by a giant, after all.

"We still can be." You aren't really understanding what's going on here, are you, Rylan?

[nascour]

Nascour snickers. "Well darlin, maybe we can be. That is, if we can lay out some ground rules. Lil? She's off-limits. I ain't gonna let you touch her, you understand me? She ain't no toy to be tossed around like those hussies you break at your silly little cave, you hear?"

[rylan]

His reputation proceeds him.

But he expected that, didn't he? Because he's here because of it. Because Merope would have wanted some background before taking on a student. And he's pretty sure this answers the other question he's been floating as well, because if Merope was this open and honest, and this man is this concerned for her....

(the fondness this man apparently has for that cunt sickens him, but then, she told him everything, didn't she? Perhaps she's already suitably broken in. Not everyone prefers their women in the same manner as he does, though really, that's a pity. They don't know what they're missing. Why is he even questioning this? The man's a cannibal. He ought to be thankful their tastes differ, thankful to be different from someone who could do something so sickening.... Oh god what if he does it to him?)

Friends. Yes. They should be friends. Always better to be friends with the monstrously tall cannibal you're sharing a residence with.

"Of course. Understood." His voice is surprisingly firm, a contrast to how still he's gone in nascour's grip.

[nascour]

Nascour doesn't quite let go.

"One more thing."

And now his voice is pure murder.

"I've got three girls. They ain't that old, but I figure the oldest two are good enough fer your grimy hands. And you ain't gonna touch 'em, do you understand me?"

He's uncomfortably close now, and his tongue flicks out, sliding over Rylan's cheek. He whispers now. "Because boy, I'd have you strewn out in seconds, and you ain't gonna want to know what I'd do with your corpse."

[rylan]

There's a monstrously tall cannibal with his tongue on Rylan's face.

It's somewhat of a miracle he doesn't piss himself, but for all he knows, Nascour would consider that seasoning.

The "Yes" he squeaks out is- well. It's audible, but only because Nascour is so close.

[nascour]

Nascour chuckles, then lets him go.

"Now you be careful, boy. I ain't never seen a mainlander that can outrun the men of Orre. You just remember what I told you, and we gonna get along reeeeeal nicely. Don't y'all go and forget."

And so he steps back, giving a moment to leer.

[rylan]

It's a little- just a little- easier to think, to speak, with that bit of extra space. He can still feel the slime on his face, the saliva that tongue left, and it takes everything in him to avoid the urge to wipe it off.

"Do they- live here?" he asks weakly. "So I know-" If anyone else is off limits, now's the time to find out. Maybe he'll make a trip home if he needs to sate himself before his assignment here ends.

[nascour]

Nascour reaches into his pocket. He's definitely the father who carries pictures of them everywhere. And there they are-- three beautiful, silver-haired girls.

"Atiya, Midha, Leila. Leila lives here. The others are off on their own." He speaks with almost an affectionate tone in his voice, though there's still a sense of off-limits.

"Remember their faces, boy, because anything you do to them, I will do to you."

[rylan]

We could go with a joke about how it'd be damn tricky to get Rylan pregnant, but this doesn't really seem like the appropriate place. Needless to say there's shock and horror and pallor on his face. It's not just instinctive, either. This breaks every code- yes, this monster has codes- that he stands for. Because you can't just do that to a person.

Key words- to a person. Let's just say his definitions of who counts as a person apparently differ from Nascour's. From most of humanity's.

They really aren't going to be friends, are they? No one in this house could be considered a friend. He wants out. Needs to get away, to... something. To get rid of this tension, this anger, this feeling that he's alone against a house fill of complete nuts-

[nascour]

And he deserves it.

But perhaps not from a man that's objectively and subjectively worse than him.

Nascour steps back. "Just remember our chat, Ryan."

And off he walks, humming a line from Rocket Man.

[rylan]

His face is still sticky.

He needs a shower.