I have no loyalty to my team. They are as afraid of me as they are each other. All they do is bleat about their fears and suspicions. The wolves will find them easy prey this year.
I hope by next round, I have a few targets for us to remove from play. Whether by vote, or other means. This round... well, I am seeking as many roles as possible to sway into my favor, to control the board.
And so control the game. A wise choice, Lord. It seems as though everyone is very eager to share their secrets, this time. Spilling them out in public without fear of reprisal. Have you found many?
They believe their investigative prowess will resolve the problem — forgetting that there are fewer wolves than red herrings, and that we can only vote out two people a round.
I know of a few. One leads many of the investigations. Hiding in plain sight is what she said her modus is. As she is a member of my team, I feel she is biting off more than she is prepared to stomach.
Who do you think among your own would be best to vanish first? I am without powers, but I still have my mind and experiences. Nobody pinned the gardener last year on me, after all!
I know some have such a grudge against you, and for what!
[ you are pookie ]
The hunters and "slayers" definitely do not like you. While they talked one another down following that gauche public showing, they are all quite vocal about eliminating vampires.
Though, not their own precious ones. Tsk. As if you could not be precious to someone.
It's the same as it ever was, Lord. My kind are hunted like vermin while we turn endlessly upon each other, stuck in the walls for fear of emerging and being eliminated. Even when we prove we can live quite harmlessly on donated blood, we are accused of depravity and looked at for every small crime.
[ On the other hand.. ]
We are monsters. But we are not the only monsters here.
Of course not. Everyone and everything is capable of great harm.
Humans and men, most of all. [ written, as if from experience ]
So, I suppose we must be monsters again. I recommend eliminating some of the charismatic ones — they are forming groups again, and I despise the idea that heedless of sense, you could be voted out. Do you think you will last one more round, or are they truly upon you?
I've been in cages before, Lord. The prospect doesn't worry me. Let them waste their votes and allow themselves to be picked off like lambs upon the hillside.
And it is not somewhere I would see you return, if I can help it Armand.
I have hunted many things, in my life. Wolves and lions, fowl and humans.
I do not care to hunt the wolves of this game, though. Honestly, I would rather know who they are and ally to them — I feel more kinship to the hated and hunted anyways. Why else would I adore you so much?
Whether that is true or not, I have given you information to pawn off onto some other soul. In the hopes of protecting you. It will sow confusion. I do this because you are mine.
[ For all his professed kindness and compassion, Armand isn't fooled. It's not the first time he's been used by a capricious god; he doubts it will be the last. Ever Satan's soldier, devotee of merciful masters. He's got nobody to blame but himself for wanting someone to believe in his innocence. ]
[ set's never cared about innocence or guilt; he is not the arbiter of justice, after all — only the one who sees to defend armand when the mob rises against him again and again, or would hide the evidence if he were rightfully accused.
he falters — feeling fragile and off balance as he has since he became guardian. ]
Are you... upset with me? You asked. You know I do not lie.
Armand, you — know me by now, right? That my loyalties are to you. That I cleave to you, and would blind myself to anything you do. Now, and always.
I don't doubt you, Lord. Only myself. That I would seek to be believed in this game of deception. That even my gods doubt me. But I remind myself that you are a god, perhaps you see something in me that I cannot see in myself. And now I'm afraid that the collar around my throat is not the only thing leashing me to this place. That I'm a slave to their violence. A playing piece for someone else's amusement.
You know I've been a slave before, Lord. I don't relish the idea of becoming one again.
[ no you can't <3 because that's who you are and set's also annoyingly persistent
He hunts Armand down, with the energy of someone greatly pleased ( overjoyed, even falsely ), a small bowl containing herbs, steeping in heated water and cloth strips draped over the side — soaking up the mixture. The moment he spots the vampire's dear little face, he swoops in to press a fond kiss to his temple. Fearless and doting. ]
I only wanted you to know, as I did not think you did — that I have been in your place, too. Made into entertainment at the hands of others.
[ ( he can't express to what extent, and prays armand believes it to be something akin to bloodsport, to being made to fight. not to being placed on display — a "beauty unparalleled" — before the cruel eyes and hands and bodies of men. )
The basin goes to Armand's hands, where set begins to wrap his fingers around it to hold. For your injuries, former fleshworker, he murmurs playfully, an unimportant aside. What's more important to him is toying with Armand's curls, winding a hand underneath his jaw to elevate it — nigh proudly. ]
What I ask or do or say to you — it is not proof of doubt. That would mean that looking upon your "potential" defines how I would treat you now or later. Your innocence or guilt are of no consequence to me, as they do not make you the "Armand" that I admire. Your very nature does. It is the same as mine, and that is one of the greatest comforts... to not be alone, in all of this. Do you understand?
[ When Set discovered him, Armand had been sitting on the stoop of the little house that Louis and Lestat share, smoking a cigarette. He rises to meet him, taking the warm bowl into his hands, eyelids shuttering in grateful supplication as Set reaches for him with those warm, beloved touches. ]
I understand, Lord. [ He says it softly, holding Set's gaze, his own eyes coppery and sad. ]
I'm glad to be able to bring you comfort. To be admired by you. To be under your merciful protection.
You offer much to me. And collared as I am, I return little.
[ part of him fears armand's submission, because of his own experiences. some other, darker part, wants to see how far he can press until it hurts, until he protests. would he? ]
I want you to make this game yours, Armand. And I would like you to revel in victory, to spite the collar you wear and because you have my favor. A man like you... sometimes I wish I could be more like that.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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2a. If my allies on other teams are not wolves, I want them to survive all nights.
2b. If any of my allies are wolves, I want them to attain victory by not being voted out.
I do not really care to know the identity of anyone other than the wolf that killed Homelander.
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[ he adores that ]
Would you like to aid mine, then? I will endeavor to ensure you stand free and alive at the end, in return.
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I know of a few. One leads many of the investigations. Hiding in plain sight is what she said her modus is. As she is a member of my team, I feel she is biting off more than she is prepared to stomach.
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Who do you think among your own would be best to vanish first? I am without powers, but I still have my mind and experiences. Nobody pinned the gardener last year on me, after all!
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[ you are pookie ]
The hunters and "slayers" definitely do not like you. While they talked one another down following that gauche public showing, they are all quite vocal about eliminating vampires.
Though, not their own precious ones. Tsk. As if you could not be precious to someone.
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It's the same as it ever was, Lord. My kind are hunted like vermin while we turn endlessly upon each other, stuck in the walls for fear of emerging and being eliminated. Even when we prove we can live quite harmlessly on donated blood, we are accused of depravity and looked at for every small crime.
[ On the other hand.. ]
We are monsters. But we are not the only monsters here.
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Humans and men, most of all. [ written, as if from experience ]
So, I suppose we must be monsters again. I recommend eliminating some of the charismatic ones — they are forming groups again, and I despise the idea that heedless of sense, you could be voted out. Do you think you will last one more round, or are they truly upon you?
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Have you ever hunted wolves?
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I have hunted many things, in my life. Wolves and lions, fowl and humans.
I do not care to hunt the wolves of this game, though. Honestly, I would rather know who they are and ally to them — I feel more kinship to the hated and hunted anyways. Why else would I adore you so much?
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Whether that is true or not, I have given you information to pawn off onto some other soul. In the hopes of protecting you. It will sow confusion. I do this because you are mine.
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Very well.
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he falters — feeling fragile and off balance as he has since he became guardian. ]
Are you... upset with me? You asked. You know I do not lie.
Armand, you — know me by now, right? That my loyalties are to you. That I cleave to you, and would blind myself to anything you do. Now, and always.
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You know I've been a slave before, Lord. I don't relish the idea of becoming one again.
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May I see you? I would have you look in my eyes, when I tell you this. Written language ill-suffices.
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He hunts Armand down, with the energy of someone greatly pleased ( overjoyed, even falsely ), a small bowl containing herbs, steeping in heated water and cloth strips draped over the side — soaking up the mixture. The moment he spots the vampire's dear little face, he swoops in to press a fond kiss to his temple. Fearless and doting. ]
I only wanted you to know, as I did not think you did — that I have been in your place, too. Made into entertainment at the hands of others.
[ ( he can't express to what extent, and prays armand believes it to be something akin to bloodsport, to being made to fight. not to being placed on display — a "beauty unparalleled" — before the cruel eyes and hands and bodies of men. )
The basin goes to Armand's hands, where set begins to wrap his fingers around it to hold. For your injuries, former fleshworker, he murmurs playfully, an unimportant aside. What's more important to him is toying with Armand's curls, winding a hand underneath his jaw to elevate it — nigh proudly. ]
What I ask or do or say to you — it is not proof of doubt. That would mean that looking upon your "potential" defines how I would treat you now or later. Your innocence or guilt are of no consequence to me, as they do not make you the "Armand" that I admire. Your very nature does. It is the same as mine, and that is one of the greatest comforts... to not be alone, in all of this. Do you understand?
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I understand, Lord. [ He says it softly, holding Set's gaze, his own eyes coppery and sad. ]
I'm glad to be able to bring you comfort. To be admired by you. To be under your merciful protection.
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[ part of him fears armand's submission, because of his own experiences. some other, darker part, wants to see how far he can press until it hurts, until he protests. would he? ]
I want you to make this game yours, Armand. And I would like you to revel in victory, to spite the collar you wear and because you have my favor. A man like you... sometimes I wish I could be more like that.
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wow this was the perfect bittersweet montage
uwu