[Ryou follows after Atem, idly toying with his hair out of nervousness. Why he's nervous? He's...not even really sure himself. What could he have to be nervous about at this point? What did Atem bring him?
...
When he sees the hand, Ryou draws in a surprised gasp. That hand...he hadn't really seen it, not while he was suffering. But he knows whose it is, of course. It's proof, too.
Proof that Atem had done as he said he would, and proof that AM had suffered for what he'd done to Ryou. Before he can stop himself, he says, lowly:]
I wish I was there to watch him writhe.
[The glow in his eyes, it's bright and focused, and his heartbeat picks up, as if he's experiencing an adrenaline rush simply reaching out to take the bag. Maybe...maybe he is, or maybe it's simply a reaction of his instincts.
Too-long fingers curl around the bag's sides, causing it to crackle, before a thumb presses against one of AM's fingers. It's pliant, lifeless.
But Ryou continues to press his thumb against the index finger, bending it back while the rest of his hand holds AM's in place. He pushes...pushes harder, pushes until the finger flexes back further than would be comfortable...until it cracks, dislocating.
Ryou's tail flickers a placid, deep blue, then bleeds into pure black, like an infernal flame. He looks like a child with a new toy.]
more of the same, also very unhealthy vengeful thoughts and satisfaction
...
When he sees the hand, Ryou draws in a surprised gasp. That hand...he hadn't really seen it, not while he was suffering. But he knows whose it is, of course. It's proof, too.
Proof that Atem had done as he said he would, and proof that AM had suffered for what he'd done to Ryou. Before he can stop himself, he says, lowly:]
I wish I was there to watch him writhe.
[The glow in his eyes, it's bright and focused, and his heartbeat picks up, as if he's experiencing an adrenaline rush simply reaching out to take the bag. Maybe...maybe he is, or maybe it's simply a reaction of his instincts.
Too-long fingers curl around the bag's sides, causing it to crackle, before a thumb presses against one of AM's fingers. It's pliant, lifeless.
Good.]
H-haha. Hahaha...this...is...it's fine. It's good, it's...deserved.
[Is he okay?
Who knows.
But Ryou continues to press his thumb against the index finger, bending it back while the rest of his hand holds AM's in place. He pushes...pushes harder, pushes until the finger flexes back further than would be comfortable...until it cracks, dislocating.
Ryou's tail flickers a placid, deep blue, then bleeds into pure black, like an infernal flame. He looks like a child with a new toy.]