*** 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.
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.
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evilopportunityemployer) wrote2019-04-25 07:38 pm
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.]
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"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.