*** BlackHat has joined 333.07.333.06 <BlackHat> ^J help <BlackHat> help <BlackHat> J <BlackHat> Official business with Black Hat only. Don't waste my time.
[Despite practically living in the same bedroom these days, it still feels wrong to not knock first, considering the 'hiring' fiasco that just went down in the lab.]
"Malevolent Boss?"
[His glove hitting the door feels eerily reminiscent to all those times he approached Black Hat's office doors, early on in his years at his job, nervous yet eager. How could someone get hired who never even experienced that?]
"Y-your arms, ah. I thought you might want to get them treated?" [Okay, less of 'might want' and more like 'you should' because Flug knows all too well what those claws get up to, and being a demon doesn't excuse you from getting those wounds infected when you stab them right through your own skin!]
"The crews are all out to process their footage, I made sure they didn't follow me."
[Flug's intuition as to where Black Hat warped off to is spot on. He's spent the time since his exit from the scene of the hire alternating between skulking about his room and scribbling out drafts on paper, most of which now lay crumpled up in and around a wastebin. This isn't a circumstance he's written a contract up to address before, so it's taking some time.
Some time that is interrupted by a familiar knock.
Black Hat doesn't answer the door immediately, though he does teleport close to hear what Flug has to say as clearly as possible, mindlessly scratching at his arms which, while they've stopped bleeding for the most part, have now begun to itch on top of aching. Damn it, he hates not being able to simply undo any self-inflicted damage to himself.
It's the offer to treat the injuries more than anything else that has Black Hat opening the door to silently wave Flug in - he's still quite angry about the whole 'showing your face to Virgil' matter, doctor. His tail whips once, twice as he strides to his armchair, expecting Flug to follow in tow.]
[It's something they both are well versed to, at this point, having wounds tended to. Between their years in Rylig, Flug has patched up holes in wings, missing parts of limbs and all matter of stab, bite and puncture marks. He already has what he needs: water, a clothe, ointment and bandaging, not daring to show up unprepared if his request was granted. This hardly ranked on the scale of gruesome injuries he has treated but it had to be seen to nonetheless. Black Hat could do some wicked damage with those claws even in more intimate circumstances; germs often didn't care how a wound was afflicted.
Flug winces when the door opens, but suppresses all other action. That Black Hat didn't open the door just to slam it in his face is a win. He isn't exactly expecting a friendly greeting here. He takes his place at Black Hat's side. His place and just as quietly sets to work. Dip the clothe, unbutton the shirt...]
[Cleaning bites and clawings is a standard procedure at this point for the both of them - Black Hat's own teeth alone have inflicted far worse on Flug, and that in a welcomed setting. So he offers no resistance to the process, silently staring straight ahead as Flug gets to work. For a few moments, at least.]
Like that bag of yours?
[And just like that, he snaps his head to the side, making eye contact with Flug. Oh yes, he is still very, very angry about the situation that brewed and Flug's own role in it.]
[The unexpected movement makes Flug freeze up, halfway through working on a button, afraid Black Hat might suddenly go for a snap at him. The resulting urge to sigh is real.]
"No, sir. Only you." [It's a resigned sound. What can he even DO in this situation? Build a memory erasure ray? Perform some invasive surgery? He might have brought either up if it wouldn't have been horribly unwise to do so in front of the potential subject. Never mind that it simply wouldn't be feasible with the technology in Ryslig.]
"The only interest I ever act in is yours." [That was the truth.] "Not even that of other employees." [And he will try his best to say that without sounding horribly scathing about it.]
[There really isn't much Flug could say that wouldn't set Black Hat off right now, but that bitter final remark is a particularly strong spark to the powder keg He's on his feet in a flash, slapping aside Flug's hands and grabbing the sides of the bag.]
There wouldn't be other employees if it weren't for your stupid, idiotic flaunting about of your face!
[His voice roars. The floodgates have burst - he's going to have it out right here and now with Flug, no matter what the arachne says. He digs his claws into the paper, piercing it and tearing small holes.]
"Well I'm sorry I was kidnapped and had some otherwordly magic force tugging things out of mind to share around!!" [As angry as he is about every ordeal, Flug had to admit it still didn't feel like a mistake. Black Hat didn't know Virgil the way Flug did, he didn't have the faerie pining for a short time and taking note of all the minor things in their interactions; Virgil who developed a crush after an incident involving stabbing. It would have been a risk to not cull all intrigue on the subject; he did what was right, dang it!
Flug keeps his hands defensively to himself, but he doesn't even think to try and stop Black Hat from going for the object of all of this fuss.]
"Y-you don't even like it!" [Hadn't Black Hat used to say the sight disgusted him?!]
[Perhaps, in the future, when he's not roiling with rage, Black Hat will reflect on this moment. He'll come to see how things have changed between them, how things have changed for him. How this is an admission of liking something about Flug, and how he doesn't mind that so much.
That moment is not now. It won't be for a while.
He snarls wordlessly, his hands balling into fists. With a roar, he rips the bag in half, tossing both pieces away. Before him now, Flug's face- no, it's still obscured. The goggles must go. Black Hat rips them off as well, severing the strap with a single slice; one that doesn't, remarkably, do more than lightly scratch Flug's skin.
He doesn't pause to reflect on that face, one he's come to know so well, so much that the sight of six eyes fits more than the human two when he compares them in his mind. His hands clap to either side of that face, that face that should not be seen by any but him, but not to cause pain, aiming merely to hold it in place.]
[Normally when Black Hat grabs his face, there's something alluring in it. It's in the throes of a passionate moment or a joking tease meant to get a rise, but this? There's more than PASSION happening right now; something closer to RAGE and OBSESSION.]
"I--" [For a fleeting second the arachne's eyes flutter closed; a combination of exposed skin and things flying toward it setting off habitual panic. When the goggles fall away, he's able to open them again and take in the horrific expression hungrily staring him down.]
"You think. Any of that means it isn't?"
[Did Flug keeping his face exclusive really mean that much? Wasn't this anger just due to some bureaucratic pride over a violation of contractual terms? Flug had 'comforted' Black Hat's more feral moments with assurances of 'yours' before but even then it hadn't quite stuck out how specific that phrase's importance was.]
"O-our contract still stands." [He's not LOOKING for a loophole out of it.]
Our contract still- you think this is about your employment contract?!
[Somehow, that boils over even more rage. He doesn't apply more pressure to Flug's face, not willing to damage what is his, but his arms quiver with tension, restrained fury bringing new blood to the surface of his arms.]
Hang the fucking contract, Flug!
[A lesser minion would remember this moment, seal it away, use it for their own gain to try and escape Black Hat's clutches. A lesser minion would summarily be hunted down and dutifully punished for their transgression. Flug is neither of those things, not anymore.
He pulls Flug close, bringing their faces inches apart, his hot breath and spit striking Flug's face as he hisses.]
This is no one else's. No one can see this. It's mine. Mine alone!
"I mean technically it's mine too." [You know, it being a part of his own head and all. But he gets it, you own him, he owns it, hierarchy of power determines your possession of subsidiary assets.
It's probably not smart to be so blunt when Black Hat's teeth are already so close the doctor can feel the man's breathe but hysterics have a habit of loosening his tongue. Always have. Flug's brain is flatlining.]
"I don't. Wh-what else would it be about?" [If not the contract?? Then what??]
"No one is trying-- no one is going to take that-- me?-- this? Away from you."
[Flug isn't getting it, and Black Hat doesn't have the words to explain it. Not in mortal tongues, not in his native language. All he can do is yell more at Flug until the latter understands. This is far beyond contractual obligations made because Black Hat, in the past, disliked Flug's un-villain-like visage and required it be hidden to keep up the company image. This is a matter of something Black Hat prized in keeping to himself being spread about. A special thing, for his eyes alone.
Without the words to express it, he instead continues yelling.]
Others are trying to take it! Others have and you let him! You just gave it away!
[He moves one hand from the side of Flug's face to grip his shoulder instead, where he can tighten his grip, not letting Flug away from him.]
[Of all the words spewed out in that tirade the phrase 'gave it away' stuck out the most. The gears in Flug's mind whirl. Black Hat couldn't love but he could appreciate things enough to assign value to them. This evidently was something of great value to cause this much of a commotion. Flug just didn't see how.
As flattering as it was to think his features were something exceptional-- even with his own massive ego, Flug couldn't entertain that laughable thought for a second. So... It had to be the circumstance itself that held the 'worth.'
Hadn't Flug always longed to be special? Black Hat appreciated him for his work, not his looks, yes over time the doctor liked to think he enjoyed more than tolerated his employee's company. Time and time again he proved his desire to keep Flug at his side. But this... Could it be something Black Hat despised for years, that had been just another point of humiliation atop a mountain of other flaws, had grown into something to be admired? Coveted? It certainly seemed so.
To the outside world, their arrangement must have seemed mad. Even outside of the more classified parameters, it had to fit that definition somewhere. Who would agree to something as batshit insane as hiding away their face forever? For a person they only recently gained enployment under? No one but Flug... And therein lied the answer.]
"...You think this devalues it."
[That I don't care. This wasn't about his appearance. This was about spitting upon their shared origins. As if it never mattered. Evidently it had. A lot.
Flug's expression hardens and he raises a tentative hand to simply rest atop Black Hat's. Not looking to pry him off, just, joining.]
"Ever... heard the phrase an artifact is worth nothing until discovered? Some might say a thing scarcely seen fetches a much higher appraisal in comparison."
[Isn't a crueler to give just one taste and hoard the rest forever?]
"And you're the one who gets to lord that over everyone."
[Black Hat always keeps his secrets close to himself. That this is another such secret, tied up with Flug himself, now out in the wider world aggravates him. It's less about the value - though there certainly is value in Flug's face, his true face beneath the bag. A face that is one of Black Hat's secrets, that represents an aspect of himself.
Flug is special. More special than he could possibly realize without Black Hat out and out saying it. No one else in Ryslig holds the knowledge he does. The memories he does. The truth of what Black Hat is, unchained and unbound by upstart deities. And even if Flug doesn't know the full extent of it (for who could know that besides Black Hat himself), he knows more, far more than anyone else in Ryslig. He holds the memories, the proof of Black Hat. The vessel for that truth. No artifact could compare.
He's not in the mood for Flug's metaphors.]
You're not an artifact! No one is discovering you to sell you off to some collector!
[Though there are certainly parties here who might - it’s what Black Hat might do, in another universe. He pulls his other hand from Flug's face to pinch the space between his eyes. The hand on Flug's shoulder, the one the arachne is covering, does not move from its place.]
This is only for me to see. Only for me to know.
[A mantra he’s repeated over and over, trying to beat it into Flug’s head. He needs Flug to understand fully - if he just says it enough, it’ll get through that skull. It has to. And maybe Flug is starting to catch on just a bit.
Black Hat’s grip loosens ever so lightly. He does get to lord it over everyone (except Virgil, now.) A mystery right in front of their eyes, one they cannot solve despite the simplicity of it. A cruel torment for the inquisitive, who will always wonder what lies beneath that bag. One of Black Hat's many secrets.]
[Flug's shoulders sink ever so slightly. He really had hoped that metaphor would cut through the heart of the matter in a more clear way; he was so sure it appealed to Black Hat's sensibilities! It didn't leave the demon any more incensed at least. A small victory.
The hand on his face is awkward, especially in regards to the subject matter but while the demon's obsessive rants were edging dangerously into 'want it as my decor' territory, Flug trusted Black Hat liked his face best in a 'living' and 'expressive state. His apparent offense at Flug being a commodity certainly reinforced that.]
"Only for you." [He echoes] "And it's going to stay that way."
[What more can he do but reassure? Flug searches the room for answers. Right. He came here to patch Black Hat up. The arachne looks from the chair they started by back to the demon with a questioning look. It's only going to itch more the longer they wait.]
"And when we get out of here, we'll ensure you're the only one with the memory to know."
[That is something Flug has every confidence in being able to promise, a mere memory deletion ray was a cakewalk compared to some of his other inventions.]
[Lucky for the arachne, a dead Flug has much less value to Black Hat. His face alone would make for worthless decor to him.]
Only for me.
[He repeats it with finality.]
No one else.
[This cannot happen again. If Flug's face is exposed to more people on Ryslig, it must not be by his own hand. And it must not be by Virgil's, either. Which is another matter - Black Hat notes the way Flug's eyes track to the chair and misinterprets the intent. He snaps his fingers and several of the discarded half-written contracts go up in flame.]
I want it before we get out of this place.
[It's half a demand, half mere wishful speaking. Even Black Hat has come to recognize the technology in this place is woefully inadequate compared to what Flug is used to.
He idly scratches at his arm again, letting out a low hiss at the sting as one claw catches.]
[Oh, the fire is unexpected. Flug flinches back. Did Black Hat not want his wounds treated after all?]
"Hn. Ryslig does have components with memory altering properties..." [Perhaps there would be a clean easier way to solve all this. It certainly warranted looking into. Perhaps he could redo his schedule to prioritize some extra research.]
"But.. won't it be a problem if we erase that after he begins working?"
[Virgil wouldn't remember why he was hired on! Would the contract be rendered null in that instance?.. Well once Black Hat wrote one. Flug has a feeling none of these burnt ones are legible any more.]
[Don't mind the flames, Flug. He's simply disposing of trash.]
He can remember the event itself for all I care. But your face will be gone.
[There's no question that Virgil will not be released from his employ. No one is fired or let go from the Black Hat Organization. They are only terminated. And given the impossibility of that here in Ryslig....
At long last, Black Hat finally seems to notice his arms again. His lip curls into a irritated sneer - ruined. The shirt's ruined, no doubt. Huffing, he slides his hand out from under Flug's and makes his way back to the chair.]
Get to work, Flug.
[But the contract. The contract, of course. They will have to discuss that, won't they? Flug did not care for Virgil's hiring, impromptu as it was, and Black Hat won't tolerate his judgement being questioned.]
[Black Hat has a point, Virgil could recall the fight without dwelling on the moment prior. The memory soured as it was, he probably wouldn't even want to. It's a relief to see his master head back to the chair and issue that familiar order. Flug moves to resume unbuttoning the shirt just as he started, reaching for the clothe once more.]
"Yes, Sir?" [He can talk and work but Black Hat has his undivided attention regardless.]
Why do you disagree with my hiring Virgil Alexandrescu?
[He leans back in the chair, undoing his tie as he speaks. If Flug has a problem, Black Hat needs to hear it, and then quash it so that the organization has a united front.]
"He just." [Flug struggles with the urge to both write it off and find the right words.]
"Doesn't.. strike me as... Organization material." [That's not a sufficient answer though. Lying to smoothe over Black Hat's ego won't help, not at this stage of things. Flug really will have to treat this like a proper report.]
"He hasn't had any formal schooling."
[He didn't dedicate his LIFE to getting YOUR attention. He didn't put in the work!]
"Seems to even be treating the idea like I'M his boss."
[As if he, FLUG, needed help! They don't even have as many customers here! His unbuttoning starts to turn slightly more frantic.]
"If just anyone c-can waltz up and get hired..." [Then does Flug's position really have the prestige he brags it does? His job that encompassed his entire identity and self worth? Did being the only human to last the longest in Black Hat's household hold any weight at all?]
[Black Hat listens to it all, not once interrupting. Indeed, his only action is to help the unbuttoning process, reaching behind himself to undo the buttons beneath his wings that hold his shirt in place there. Once Flug finishes, Black Hat is silent a bit longer. And then:]
You're right.
[Because Flug is. Under normal circumstances, Virgil would never have been hired on.]
He's not worthy of it. But I had no choice. Kill him, he'll just spring back right as rain with the fog, able to blabber whatever he wants.
[Black Hat shucks off his vest.]
So. I'm binding him. A short leash, one he clearly doesn't object to. One he'll lose if he steps out of line. Not for long, though. If he does that, I'll put it back on again once we are free - and it will be a noose.
[He growls it out - it's clear Black Hat is not anywhere near pleased with the situation.]
For now, he'll be your drudge. Do what you want with him.
"I am?" [If Flug had a nickel for the amount of times he heard that so plainly. It does abate the doctor's frustrations, at least a little, it isn't often Black Hat would be so considerate of him expressing such doubts. This felt less like an scolding and more of an actual conversation.
With those final clasps undone, the shirt is removed and they can begin. Wet clothe meets the first wound to flush out any debris.]
"I have no use for a drudge." [More to the point, Flug loathed anyone getting in the way and touching his experiments, costing him valuable progress. The man wasn't a hatbot. Flug can't trust a botanist mechanic with no training to handle his equipment, moreover make someone who didn't necesarrily want to be hired respect the authority of a position they did nothing to achieve. Anything involving coding was out, nothing with complex formulas, think, think, what use could Virgil provide?]
"I'll set him to errands. Research gathering." [Though Flug will admit he sometimes enjoyed going out on those for some fresh air; mores the pity.]
"Keep to his current projects. See what merit can be found in them." [Drain the fluid, clean water, rinse and repeat.]
[A single affirming nod. Black Hat's not going to deny the truth of the matter solely to beat down Flug's ego; that would be counterproductive. He's still displeased over the exposed face matter, but for now his temper has cooled.]
You'll figure something out. [Both a command and a commentary; of course Flug will. It's not something Black Hat need concern himself with unless Flug spectacularly fails - or Virgil refuses to take orders from the arachne. In the latter case, well, Black Hat will straighten matters out.
He digs his claws into the chair arms, hissing at the flushing. It's not painful, per say, not compared to other times he's been injured, but it's a strange sensation nonetheless. And usually the punctures aren't in his arms.]
We'll also take advantage of his unique monster properties. [He taps his free hand on the armrest.] Remember that, Flug, I'll put that in his contract so he can't weasel out of it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
evilopportunityemployer) wrote2019-04-25 07:38 pm
[Week of the Bingo]
"Malevolent Boss?"
[His glove hitting the door feels eerily reminiscent to all those times he approached Black Hat's office doors, early on in his years at his job, nervous yet eager. How could someone get hired who never even experienced that?]
"Y-your arms, ah. I thought you might want to get them treated?" [Okay, less of 'might want' and more like 'you should' because Flug knows all too well what those claws get up to, and being a demon doesn't excuse you from getting those wounds infected when you stab them right through your own skin!]
"The crews are all out to process their footage, I made sure they didn't follow me."
no subject
Some time that is interrupted by a familiar knock.
Black Hat doesn't answer the door immediately, though he does teleport close to hear what Flug has to say as clearly as possible, mindlessly scratching at his arms which, while they've stopped bleeding for the most part, have now begun to itch on top of aching. Damn it, he hates not being able to simply undo any self-inflicted damage to himself.
It's the offer to treat the injuries more than anything else that has Black Hat opening the door to silently wave Flug in - he's still quite angry about the whole 'showing your face to Virgil' matter, doctor. His tail whips once, twice as he strides to his armchair, expecting Flug to follow in tow.]
no subject
Flug winces when the door opens, but suppresses all other action. That Black Hat didn't open the door just to slam it in his face is a win. He isn't exactly expecting a friendly greeting here. He takes his place at Black Hat's side. His place and just as quietly sets to work. Dip the clothe, unbutton the shirt...]
"This is going to have to come off."
no subject
Like that bag of yours?
[And just like that, he snaps his head to the side, making eye contact with Flug. Oh yes, he is still very, very angry about the situation that brewed and Flug's own role in it.]
Off for any Dick, Jane, or Mary now, hm?
no subject
"No, sir. Only you." [It's a resigned sound. What can he even DO in this situation? Build a memory erasure ray? Perform some invasive surgery? He might have brought either up if it wouldn't have been horribly unwise to do so in front of the potential subject. Never mind that it simply wouldn't be feasible with the technology in Ryslig.]
"The only interest I ever act in is yours." [That was the truth.] "Not even that of other employees." [And he will try his best to say that without sounding horribly scathing about it.]
no subject
There wouldn't be other employees if it weren't for your stupid, idiotic flaunting about of your face!
[His voice roars. The floodgates have burst - he's going to have it out right here and now with Flug, no matter what the arachne says. He digs his claws into the paper, piercing it and tearing small holes.]
no subject
Flug keeps his hands defensively to himself, but he doesn't even think to try and stop Black Hat from going for the object of all of this fuss.]
"Y-you don't even like it!" [Hadn't Black Hat used to say the sight disgusted him?!]
no subject
[Perhaps, in the future, when he's not roiling with rage, Black Hat will reflect on this moment. He'll come to see how things have changed between them, how things have changed for him. How this is an admission of liking something about Flug, and how he doesn't mind that so much.
That moment is not now. It won't be for a while.
He snarls wordlessly, his hands balling into fists. With a roar, he rips the bag in half, tossing both pieces away. Before him now, Flug's face- no, it's still obscured. The goggles must go. Black Hat rips them off as well, severing the strap with a single slice; one that doesn't, remarkably, do more than lightly scratch Flug's skin.
He doesn't pause to reflect on that face, one he's come to know so well, so much that the sight of six eyes fits more than the human two when he compares them in his mind. His hands clap to either side of that face, that face that should not be seen by any but him, but not to cause pain, aiming merely to hold it in place.]
THIS. Is. MINE!!!
no subject
"I--" [For a fleeting second the arachne's eyes flutter closed; a combination of exposed skin and things flying toward it setting off habitual panic. When the goggles fall away, he's able to open them again and take in the horrific expression hungrily staring him down.]
"You think. Any of that means it isn't?"
[Did Flug keeping his face exclusive really mean that much? Wasn't this anger just due to some bureaucratic pride over a violation of contractual terms? Flug had 'comforted' Black Hat's more feral moments with assurances of 'yours' before but even then it hadn't quite stuck out how specific that phrase's importance was.]
"O-our contract still stands." [He's not LOOKING for a loophole out of it.]
no subject
[Somehow, that boils over even more rage. He doesn't apply more pressure to Flug's face, not willing to damage what is his, but his arms quiver with tension, restrained fury bringing new blood to the surface of his arms.]
Hang the fucking contract, Flug!
[A lesser minion would remember this moment, seal it away, use it for their own gain to try and escape Black Hat's clutches. A lesser minion would summarily be hunted down and dutifully punished for their transgression. Flug is neither of those things, not anymore.
He pulls Flug close, bringing their faces inches apart, his hot breath and spit striking Flug's face as he hisses.]
This is no one else's. No one can see this. It's mine. Mine alone!
no subject
It's probably not smart to be so blunt when Black Hat's teeth are already so close the doctor can feel the man's breathe but hysterics have a habit of loosening his tongue. Always have. Flug's brain is flatlining.]
"I don't. Wh-what else would it be about?" [If not the contract?? Then what??]
"No one is trying-- no one is going to take that-- me?-- this? Away from you."
no subject
[Flug isn't getting it, and Black Hat doesn't have the words to explain it. Not in mortal tongues, not in his native language. All he can do is yell more at Flug until the latter understands. This is far beyond contractual obligations made because Black Hat, in the past, disliked Flug's un-villain-like visage and required it be hidden to keep up the company image. This is a matter of something Black Hat prized in keeping to himself being spread about. A special thing, for his eyes alone.
Without the words to express it, he instead continues yelling.]
Others are trying to take it! Others have and you let him! You just gave it away!
[He moves one hand from the side of Flug's face to grip his shoulder instead, where he can tighten his grip, not letting Flug away from him.]
You had no right.
no subject
As flattering as it was to think his features were something exceptional-- even with his own massive ego, Flug couldn't entertain that laughable thought for a second. So... It had to be the circumstance itself that held the 'worth.'
Hadn't Flug always longed to be special? Black Hat appreciated him for his work, not his looks, yes over time the doctor liked to think he enjoyed more than tolerated his employee's company. Time and time again he proved his desire to keep Flug at his side. But this... Could it be something Black Hat despised for years, that had been just another point of humiliation atop a mountain of other flaws, had grown into something to be admired? Coveted? It certainly seemed so.
To the outside world, their arrangement must have seemed mad. Even outside of the more classified parameters, it had to fit that definition somewhere. Who would agree to something as batshit insane as hiding away their face forever? For a person they only recently gained enployment under? No one but Flug... And therein lied the answer.]
"...You think this devalues it."
[That I don't care. This wasn't about his appearance. This was about spitting upon their shared origins. As if it never mattered. Evidently it had. A lot.
Flug's expression hardens and he raises a tentative hand to simply rest atop Black Hat's. Not looking to pry him off, just, joining.]
"Ever... heard the phrase an artifact is worth nothing until discovered? Some might say a thing scarcely seen fetches a much higher appraisal in comparison."
[Isn't a crueler to give just one taste and hoard the rest forever?]
"And you're the one who gets to lord that over everyone."
no subject
Flug is special. More special than he could possibly realize without Black Hat out and out saying it. No one else in Ryslig holds the knowledge he does. The memories he does. The truth of what Black Hat is, unchained and unbound by upstart deities. And even if Flug doesn't know the full extent of it (for who could know that besides Black Hat himself), he knows more, far more than anyone else in Ryslig. He holds the memories, the proof of Black Hat. The vessel for that truth. No artifact could compare.
He's not in the mood for Flug's metaphors.]
You're not an artifact! No one is discovering you to sell you off to some collector!
[Though there are certainly parties here who might - it’s what Black Hat might do, in another universe. He pulls his other hand from Flug's face to pinch the space between his eyes. The hand on Flug's shoulder, the one the arachne is covering, does not move from its place.]
This is only for me to see. Only for me to know.
[A mantra he’s repeated over and over, trying to beat it into Flug’s head. He needs Flug to understand fully - if he just says it enough, it’ll get through that skull. It has to. And maybe Flug is starting to catch on just a bit.
Black Hat’s grip loosens ever so lightly. He does get to lord it over everyone (except Virgil, now.) A mystery right in front of their eyes, one they cannot solve despite the simplicity of it. A cruel torment for the inquisitive, who will always wonder what lies beneath that bag. One of Black Hat's many secrets.]
no subject
The hand on his face is awkward, especially in regards to the subject matter but while the demon's obsessive rants were edging dangerously into 'want it as my decor' territory, Flug trusted Black Hat liked his face best in a 'living' and 'expressive state. His apparent offense at Flug being a commodity certainly reinforced that.]
"Only for you." [He echoes] "And it's going to stay that way."
[What more can he do but reassure? Flug searches the room for answers. Right. He came here to patch Black Hat up. The arachne looks from the chair they started by back to the demon with a questioning look. It's only going to itch more the longer they wait.]
"And when we get out of here, we'll ensure you're the only one with the memory to know."
[That is something Flug has every confidence in being able to promise, a mere memory deletion ray was a cakewalk compared to some of his other inventions.]
no subject
Only for me.
[He repeats it with finality.]
No one else.
[This cannot happen again. If Flug's face is exposed to more people on Ryslig, it must not be by his own hand. And it must not be by Virgil's, either. Which is another matter - Black Hat notes the way Flug's eyes track to the chair and misinterprets the intent. He snaps his fingers and several of the discarded half-written contracts go up in flame.]
I want it before we get out of this place.
[It's half a demand, half mere wishful speaking. Even Black Hat has come to recognize the technology in this place is woefully inadequate compared to what Flug is used to.
He idly scratches at his arm again, letting out a low hiss at the sting as one claw catches.]
no subject
"Hn. Ryslig does have components with memory altering properties..." [Perhaps there would be a clean easier way to solve all this. It certainly warranted looking into. Perhaps he could redo his schedule to prioritize some extra research.]
"But.. won't it be a problem if we erase that after he begins working?"
[Virgil wouldn't remember why he was hired on! Would the contract be rendered null in that instance?.. Well once Black Hat wrote one. Flug has a feeling none of these burnt ones are legible any more.]
"Ah. We really should take care of those, sir..."
no subject
He can remember the event itself for all I care. But your face will be gone.
[There's no question that Virgil will not be released from his employ. No one is fired or let go from the Black Hat Organization. They are only terminated. And given the impossibility of that here in Ryslig....
At long last, Black Hat finally seems to notice his arms again. His lip curls into a irritated sneer - ruined. The shirt's ruined, no doubt. Huffing, he slides his hand out from under Flug's and makes his way back to the chair.]
Get to work, Flug.
[But the contract. The contract, of course. They will have to discuss that, won't they? Flug did not care for Virgil's hiring, impromptu as it was, and Black Hat won't tolerate his judgement being questioned.]
Doctor?
no subject
"Yes, Sir?" [He can talk and work but Black Hat has his undivided attention regardless.]
no subject
[He leans back in the chair, undoing his tie as he speaks. If Flug has a problem, Black Hat needs to hear it, and then quash it so that the organization has a united front.]
no subject
"Doesn't.. strike me as... Organization material." [That's not a sufficient answer though. Lying to smoothe over Black Hat's ego won't help, not at this stage of things. Flug really will have to treat this like a proper report.]
"He hasn't had any formal schooling."
[He didn't dedicate his LIFE to getting YOUR attention. He didn't put in the work!]
"Seems to even be treating the idea like I'M his boss."
[As if he, FLUG, needed help! They don't even have as many customers here! His unbuttoning starts to turn slightly more frantic.]
"If just anyone c-can waltz up and get hired..." [Then does Flug's position really have the prestige he brags it does? His job that encompassed his entire identity and self worth? Did being the only human to last the longest in Black Hat's household hold any weight at all?]
"What will he even do."
no subject
You're right.
[Because Flug is. Under normal circumstances, Virgil would never have been hired on.]
He's not worthy of it. But I had no choice. Kill him, he'll just spring back right as rain with the fog, able to blabber whatever he wants.
[Black Hat shucks off his vest.]
So. I'm binding him. A short leash, one he clearly doesn't object to. One he'll lose if he steps out of line. Not for long, though. If he does that, I'll put it back on again once we are free - and it will be a noose.
[He growls it out - it's clear Black Hat is not anywhere near pleased with the situation.]
For now, he'll be your drudge. Do what you want with him.
no subject
With those final clasps undone, the shirt is removed and they can begin. Wet clothe meets the first wound to flush out any debris.]
"I have no use for a drudge." [More to the point, Flug loathed anyone getting in the way and touching his experiments, costing him valuable progress. The man wasn't a hatbot. Flug can't trust a botanist mechanic with no training to handle his equipment, moreover make someone who didn't necesarrily want to be hired respect the authority of a position they did nothing to achieve. Anything involving coding was out, nothing with complex formulas, think, think, what use could Virgil provide?]
"I'll set him to errands. Research gathering." [Though Flug will admit he sometimes enjoyed going out on those for some fresh air; mores the pity.]
"Keep to his current projects. See what merit can be found in them." [Drain the fluid, clean water, rinse and repeat.]
no subject
You'll figure something out. [Both a command and a commentary; of course Flug will. It's not something Black Hat need concern himself with unless Flug spectacularly fails - or Virgil refuses to take orders from the arachne. In the latter case, well, Black Hat will straighten matters out.
He digs his claws into the chair arms, hissing at the flushing. It's not painful, per say, not compared to other times he's been injured, but it's a strange sensation nonetheless. And usually the punctures aren't in his arms.]
We'll also take advantage of his unique monster properties. [He taps his free hand on the armrest.] Remember that, Flug, I'll put that in his contract so he can't weasel out of it.