[ He's there a little while later. Twitching idly in the way that said more of waiting for an attack that meeting someone whose supposed to help him. His hand shifts and moves on his hip, to his sword then away like it was an effort not to draw it. ]
[ Quickly, Severus makes sure one of the rooms he's been setting up with wards is in order, and with a few spells sorts everything else he's been working on into storage or under stasis charms out of the way. He really hopes Corvo doesn't lose control of himself, but. Best be prepared.
When he meets the assassin at the laboratory entrance, Severus approaches slowly, footsteps audible. From several meters away he appraises the unsteady tension in him-- though he doesn't raise his arms, he keeps his hands visible, empty palms tilted away from himself. ]
[ He cements in reality. Details. Things that were real. The sound of boot steps. The subtle sound of shifting clothing. Confident foot falls, weepers did not walk, they shuffled and ran. Cleaner smelling, no waft of brackish water and cigar smoke. Not city watch. ]
Severus. [ His hand rose to his mask, shifting it up in a tug, the same as ever. His head dips. Breath, repeat, raised to formality even if he was awful at it. The motions helped. Gave himself other than the brief flicker of things that should not be on walls he begun to doubt. ] One day, I hope, I will speak to you and the topic will be pleasant. [ it's an almost apology for dragging him into this. ]
I think I used to. [ he's trying to not be so... severe about it. ]
Yes. As you suggested it. Then I stopped completely, then I drank too much. They haven't... changed. [ that's not completely right, not really. They increase, but as a constant thing. ] They get worse, and nothing has an effect on them, for better or worse.
Has this happened to you before, here or at home? [ His low voice remains calm, almost tranquil in its seriousness. Severus steps back and motions for Corvo to walk with him. But first: ] I'm going to lock the laboratory entrance doors now, so no one ends up sneaking up on us.
[ Just so he's aware why it's happening-- he doesn't want Corvo to think he's trapped, but Severus can't have him on a hair-trigger ready to stab one of the geneticists if someone wanders by with coffee. ]
[ He nods and waits, until until Snape closes the doors, till he boxes them up in the room. Some part of him will never like closed rooms again, jail had made him loathe that helplessness, but in this case he preferred it. Not just to prevent his paranoia from making him twitch, but he didn't particularly want someone else hearing the conversation, either.
Because this answer is complicated, and he wants as few people knowing as was possible. ]
Yes. Once, before. Do you recall Arima, what happened there? The one they called... Morgoth? [ he swallows, still twisting, little movements that meant he was never completely still. ] I lost someone, I mourn her, I will mourn her -- [ for the rest of his life. he knows that with a strange sort of surety. There would never be an end to this. ] He let me hear her voice again, it was only a trick. His voice made to be hers and I didn't care, she... I missed her and he said all I had to do was follow orders and I... [ there's an emptiness there, because he remembers well just how he relished it. ] I killed a great many innocent people.
[ Which is really, why he's panicking so badly about this all. Even then he's omitting one large, crucial fact, that why he ever thought hearing her voice was normal. He'd answer that too, he supposed. ]
This is different. I hear things, but they are not her. The things I am seeing, no man here can know of them, I alone come from Dunwall.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
voice;
[ one day, one day he will find a way to repay but it still proooobably won't be enough. ]
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When he meets the assassin at the laboratory entrance, Severus approaches slowly, footsteps audible. From several meters away he appraises the unsteady tension in him-- though he doesn't raise his arms, he keeps his hands visible, empty palms tilted away from himself. ]
Corvo.
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Severus. [ His hand rose to his mask, shifting it up in a tug, the same as ever. His head dips. Breath, repeat, raised to formality even if he was awful at it. The motions helped. Gave himself other than the brief flicker of things that should not be on walls he begun to doubt. ] One day, I hope, I will speak to you and the topic will be pleasant. [ it's an almost apology for dragging him into this. ]
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Are you on or off the potion cycle, like we discussed?
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Yes. As you suggested it. Then I stopped completely, then I drank too much. They haven't... changed. [ that's not completely right, not really. They increase, but as a constant thing. ] They get worse, and nothing has an effect on them, for better or worse.
no subject
[ Just so he's aware why it's happening-- he doesn't want Corvo to think he's trapped, but Severus can't have him on a hair-trigger ready to stab one of the geneticists if someone wanders by with coffee. ]
no subject
Because this answer is complicated, and he wants as few people knowing as was possible. ]
Yes. Once, before. Do you recall Arima, what happened there? The one they called... Morgoth? [ he swallows, still twisting, little movements that meant he was never completely still. ] I lost someone, I mourn her, I will mourn her -- [ for the rest of his life. he knows that with a strange sort of surety. There would never be an end to this. ] He let me hear her voice again, it was only a trick. His voice made to be hers and I didn't care, she... I missed her and he said all I had to do was follow orders and I... [ there's an emptiness there, because he remembers well just how he relished it. ] I killed a great many innocent people.
[ Which is really, why he's panicking so badly about this all. Even then he's omitting one large, crucial fact, that why he ever thought hearing her voice was normal. He'd answer that too, he supposed. ]
This is different. I hear things, but they are not her. The things I am seeing, no man here can know of them, I alone come from Dunwall.