shamebat | Inbox

What did he do to me?

He used the hypnotism on you to make you miss the sweaters we destroyed and to wear one yourself all day.

I told him not to.

I seem to remember that fucking much.

Thank you, Nadja. He told me some of it, the damn imbecile. Didn't even try to lie!

Perhaps it is better that he didn't lie. Hypnotizing someone you like is a good method to create distrust. How can he expect to have a good relationship with someone who doesn't know if he has been controlled to like whoever he is told to like?

Oh I'm grateful he didn't. I meant that he doesn't see it as fucking wrong enough to try and cover it up.

And then he had the audacity to get angry with me, as if this is my fucking fault.

If he is not being especially stupid, it may be that he feels guilt for what he's done and it comes out as anger. He could be angry because even though he has all these powers, he cannot get everything he wants with them.

But then, he could be especially stupid too.

Feelings don't matter. Actions matter.

I think he's fucking stupid.

Could be that I've got too much time to think down here.

As do I.

I am sorry that he did that to you. But if you wish to prevent it in the future from him or any other vampire, avoid eye contact. We can't hypnotize you if we can't see your eyes.

'Down here'?

I'll remember that.

Zero.

Darling, why are you down there?

Because I was naughty, of course. I may have hit my babysitter. Tragic story, honestly.

You hit a woman?

Please. Take your outdated notions elsewhere. What does it matter? She was more than capable of taking care of her fucking self.

Outdated? You, a human male, struck a woman.

And she, a fucking magical something, hit me back.

She took something from me. What other recourse did I have?

You ask her for it back or you steal it from her when she is not looking! You do not strike her on her body! What sort of strong, powerful man hits women when they take his toys from him?

Pigshit.

Yes, yes. I was very bad and now I'm in the very bad place. Poor, fucking me. I promise I won't do it again.

Fucking hell.

It wasn't a fucking toy.

You stop with that sarcasm right now. I am very angry with you.

What was it? Why did she have it in the first place?

Oh, you're angry with me? What do I fucking care?

[He does. Very much.]

A picture of Ishwari, Lakshmana's mother. I asked her, so politely, for it and something else sentimental. A simple pen. She gave me the picture but nothing else. Then took the picture again before shoving me in the fucking cell.

Because you hit her, and she took the picture back.

This pen. Was it a kind of weapon? Something dangerous?

[Yes.]

It is a pen, Nadja. Who uses a pen as a weapon?

Many people. Hundreds of years ago, people used to put poison or sharp knives into pens. It was very dangerous to write letters. I think we have some around the house somewhere.

Fascinating. I've never tried poison. Too subtle.

Yes, it is traditionally a woman's weapon.

Like the one you hit.

No. Her weapon was her damn elbow and magic.

I hate this fucking place, you know. And the only fucking amusing part of it turns out to be a fucking moron.

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