boxofmisfits | (no subject)

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The Rat King didn't normally deal with the world above. He usually lived in the sewers, with his rats. The rats were his friends, and he understood them on a level that no other could. He saw through their eyes, and they were his spy network for the sewers and the city.

But even he had to admit that the world above had its advantages.

He didn't know how the man called Osiris had found out about him. Nor did he understand why the man had gotten in contact with the Rat King, of all people. One of his rats had returned with a note tied to his leg. The note referred to him by his old name, Dr. Victor Falco, and it spoke of wanting to meet up. The Rat King had sent a note back saying they would meet on his terms, away from any prying eyes. A go-between had been used, with the messenger putting his boss' offer on the table: a promise to give the Rat King his own private facility where he could conduct his experiments without interference, that would have plenty of room for his rats. All the Rat King had to do was get someone out of Osiris' hair. The Rat King had taken the offer.

The abandoned laboratory had been given to him first thing. Now he just had to keep up his end of the bargain for the other half of his "payment". The Rat King watched through the eyes of the rats he had scattered about the area, to keep watch for his target.

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Interesting reaction. The Rat King hadn't tried this with a human mind, so he hand't know what to expect. Rats were intelligent, but their minds were different from a human's.

The Rat King sifted through all the images he read from Dane's mind. The bad things, the good things, the insecurities, and the memories. He looked through it all, and it gave him ideas. He could use most of this.

But there was also the memories of his friends and his devotion to them. Those interested the Rat King. Such lovely thoughts they were. Even when he'd gone by the name Victor Falco, nobody had felt that way towards him. He'd never actively wanted it, be it in a familial way like Dane felt towards those friends, or in a romantic way. But the Rat King found himself focusing on those feelings, along with the other myriad of thoughts.

He would have to sleep soon, but he sent a final wave of telepathy for the night: Mine...

The next morning, he rapped on Dane's door with his knuckles and loudly said, "You can either eat breakfast with me or in there."

Edited 2017-11-25 07:25 (UTC)

That "mine" trickled down through Dane's subconscious like rain water through soil. It seeped into everything, deeper and deeper as he slept. It wouldn't have gone very far, except that it touched on a few unexpected things, amplifying and ringing through him. There were certain...desires he had. Some perverse, some not. But they all centered on being owned. It was the same as being treated like a pet. Being loved and accepted was not something that he could handle well. It was conditional. It could be taken away. But ownership? That was different. In a way, he actually wanted it. So that one idea reached far deeper than anything else.

So when he finally woke up, the fight didn't immediately return to him. Not even when he remembered where he was. There was a feeling he couldn't quite comprehend in the place where his terror had been. He was still afraid, but it was...less.

"With you--" The first reason he stopped was that he'd been about to call the man by name, but realized he didn't have it. No, that wasn't it. There'd been a title that came to mind, not a name. He shook it off. Why was he so willing to sit down and eat with the guy holding him captive. "No! In here!" This didn't make sense.

"As you wish," The Rat King sneered. It belatedly occurred to him that he hadn't given Dane his name yet. They'd been so wrapped up in their little game that it had skipped his mind. Well, that would be corrected shortly.

The door opened and the Rat King entered with a plate of toaster waffles stacked up. Not exactly fancy cooking. The Rat King had some money stored in a not-exactly-legal fund from back when he'd been human, and he had asked for a small allowance for groceries from Osiris as part of the payment package. He ordered his groceries online and had them delivered, of course.

The Rat King set the plate down on the card table and drew two chairs up, across from one another. Obviously he was purposefully misinterpreting Dane's words as 'with you, in here'. "By the way, you may call me The Rat King."

He recoiled slightly as the man came in the room, still not accustomed to that face of his. He watched, warily, as if expecting some sort of attack. He should have refused the food. Even if his stomach was already growling from having missed dinner. But then the man started to settle down at the table and a whole new worry took it's place. He didn't want to be in the room with this guy.

"That's not a name!" he squawked, but without some of his previous ferocity. "I might as well call you 'my liege'." He rolled his eyes. He still wasn't leaving the cot.

"You may call me that, if you wish," The Rat King still had the white rat on his shoulder, and he had reapplied the bandages since last night.

Sitting down at the table, the Rat King took one of the waffles and broke off a little piece to give to Aristotle. The white rat took it in his paws and started nibbling at it. The Rat King waved his hand at the other end of the table, "Please, have a seat." There was an unspoken threat of 'don't make me force you' in his voice.

Sneering at the response about the name, Dane just settled back on the cot, his knees pulled to his chest. The collar sat around his neck like some sort of lead weight. He wanted out. Sort of. His thoughts were all jumbled up, making him feel like maybe staying here wasn't the worst thing. But he still didn't want to. Not with the Rat King.

He just glared at the invitation, hearing that threat. He was daring the man to use force. Challenging him to prove his power. But Dane wasn't entirely sure what way he actually wanted it to go. If Rat King wasn't able to use mental force, than it wasn't so scary. But if he was...then anything Dane was made to do wouldn't be his fault, right? There was a strange sort of allure in that. It was terrifying, the same way a free fall before pulling a parachute was terrifying. He felt his heart hammering in his chest, trying to tell himself how horrible it would be.

Oh, Dane wanted to play it like that, did he? The Rat King was glad to oblige.

Taking a bite out of a waffle and just chewing it idly while he and Aristotle stared at Dane, he sent out a mental wave towards the other man. It was another little psychic push. Not quite full control over his mind, though the Rat King was willing to do so if it came to that, but just mentally 'talking him' into getting up and sitting across from him.

Dane started to uncurl from his place on the cot. He moved to the edge and put his feet on the floor. But as he grabbed the edge and shifted to move his weight to his feet, he halted. He hadn't decided to get up. In fact, he'd been staunchly against it.

Eyes going wide, he threw himself back, knees drawn up to his chest in a display of sudden panic. But it wasn't all panic. Not really. Because realizing what the man was truly capable of sent a strange, illicit thrill through up under the suffocating blanket of fear. If he could easily nudge Dane into moving, what else could he do?!

Dane seemed to have realized what was going on, and it was making it easier for him to resist the mental 'suggestions'. Perhaps it was time for a show of real power. Dane needed to eat, after all.

Keeping his face pointed towards Dane, he whispered, "I said have a seat," His mind reached out towards Dane's, using more force this time and imposing his will on the other man. This time he was outright commanding Dane to sit across from him and start eating.

This time, no matter how much Dane tried to stop himself his body still moved. No, it wasn't just his body. It was more like suddenly the part of him that didn't want to do this was pushed aside and so he just decided it was best to do as he was told. Even as he fought against it, it was just easier that way.

He dropped sullenly into the chair opposite the rat king, his arms folded over his chest. "If you think you're getting anything outta me cause you can do that, you're wrong," he muttered, looking like a pouty teenager. All the while his mind was running circles with the possibilities. Some of them terrified if, others were fantasies that had lurked in the dark depths his mind, more were newly created possibilities. Others still were everything from the mundane to the horrific. All rapid fire, like someone rifling through files and flinging papers everywhere. Good, bad, indifferent, he was running through every possible option that was even theoretically possible.

The Rat King just idly ate more of his toaster waffle as Dane spoke, like he couldn't care less about what the other man was saying. He broke off another piece of his food to give Aristotle. Even as he ate, his mind was picking up Dane's thoughts. Interesting.

"If you don't eat, I'm just going to force you to," He stated, pushing the plate towards the other man. "I'm not about to have you starve on me." It wasn't out of concern for Dane's well being, but yet another way the Rat King wanted to assert his control.

"It would be easier on you if you simply stopped resisting me." He wasn't just talking about the food now.

Before Dane could say anything more, his stomach let out a loud, and rather audible growl. With a twist of distaste on his lips, he reached out and snatched a waffle from the plate. Was it really any different, though? Doing it under threat or under mental control. Either way he was being forced to.

He tore the waffle practically in half, making a show of chomping the large chunk down in the most immature way possible. His mouth smacking open, making a great deal of noise in the process. If he didn't have a choice, he was going to be as obnoxious as possible.

The Rat King frowned at the display. He knew that Dane was doing this on purpose, just to get on his nerves. "Must you eat like a dog as well?"

In contrast, Aristotle ate the rest of his food neatly and quickly, as if to convey the message that an actual rat had better table manners.

"I think you and I can be friends, Dane. Very good friends." Even this promise had a sinister edge to it.

Rolling his eyes, Dane swallowed the mouthful. He had a thought to eat mockingly like a rat, holding the waffle in both hands and frantically nibbling at it. But he had the feeling the rat king would find that more appealing than anything and the last thing he wanted to do was be appealing.

"If I wanted to eat like a dog, I'd be going after your little pal there." He really didn't want to think about what that tone meant. The last thing he wanted was more injections.

Somehow, the Rat King conveyed a scowl, even with covered eyes. He ate the last two bites of his breakfast. "Harm Aristotle at your own peril, human," He hissed. Out of all his rats, he was most protective of his little Aristotle.

"I know your thoughts. You long to feel wanted. You want to belong."

That pulled a sharper reaction than anything else had since he'd woken up. Like an electric shock. It was one thing to have the man rooting around in his head, making him do things. But that? That was way too personal.

"Not with rats," he snapped. "And sure has hell not with you." That at least was true, he was horrified at the idea of being wanted by someone like this.

"Fear not, my interest in rats only goes so far," Much as he felt a kinship with the little things, it was on a purely platonic level. King of rats or not, he was still a man.

"Don't you see?" The Rat King stood up and walked over to Dane, reaching a bandaged hand up to run those long fingers across his cheek. "You already belong to me. You just don't know it yet."

He was going for another bite of his waffle, eyes rolling again, when the hand reached toward him. He cried out, shoving back from the table. But his chair tipped backwards, dumping him onto the floor.

Despite the clumsy move, he rolled backwards and easily came up on his feet, the half eaten waffle on the floor. "I'm not some pet for you to own!" There was an uneasy waver in his voice.

The Rat King called for a few rats to come to him, to take care of that waffle. "Of course not," He said, with a sardonic hint to his voice. Walking backwards, the Rat King opened the door just long enough to let the rats in, who quickly scurried towards the waffle and dug in.

Once the door was closed, the Rat King approached Dane once more. "What I want from you, I would never demand from a mere pet." He reached up to touch Dane again.

Watching the rats scurry in, Dane frowned. He wasn't hungry, anyway. And what the rat king said enforced that notion. He felt his stomach twist, before he even fully processed it.

"No!" He barked, jerking back from that hand. "No way. Nu-uh. Use your creepy powers to get that from someone else! You're not--" his lips twisted as he tried to say it. But he just shook his head. "Keep your filthy hands and whatever else away from me!" But even with his protests, his mind was churning away on more ideas. On what the man's abilities could do for something like that.

"I don't want it from anyone else," The Rat King whispered. "Not when I have you." Never mind that were he to want it from another, he would have to go through the trouble of kidnapping and giving them his serum too. More than that, he found Dane's thoughts and desires... agreeable.

He briefly wondered how much Dane would fight him on this if he still looked human. Experimentally, he made an image flash across Dane's mind. It was only for a second, but hopefully it would leave an impression.

The image was of an older gentleman, with blue eyes and black hair that was neatly trimmed, with a touch of grey streaks. The Rat King's former appearance.

That brief flash was more than enough to make an impression. It startled him at first, confused about who it was. But already his mind was filtering that face through the various scenarios, and the results were leaning somewhat more toward the positive.

"Stop that!" He yelped. "Even if you make me see a different face I still know it's your wrinkly ass under it!"

He had sensed that intrigue. The Rat King would remember that. "That man is closer than you might think." Let Dane wonder who the man was. There was some satisfaction to be held in knowing something Dane didn't.

"But, perhaps we need to get you used to my face then," Reaching up, the Rat King removed the bandages, showing Dane his eyes. "Something simple, for now." He sent another mental command to Dane, willing him to get down on his knees.

Taking a step back, Dane didn't want to see any more of the man's face than he had to. It was like some sort of poorly done Halloween mask and it filled him with disgust. He didn't really wonder who that other face had belonged to. More that he would much rather look at that face than this one.

"You're sick," he hissed, still trying to move away from the Rat King. But instead, his body was doing the opposite. He didn't realize what was going on until his knees hit the floor and he couldn't budge himself. "Disgusting!" he spat.

"You humans and your high standards. Soon you will learn to appreciate me."

Once Dane was on his knees, the Rat King lifted his black robe until just enough of it was above his waist. He had some bandages around his skeletal legs as well. He also didn't wear underwear, baring himself to Dane.

Some of the rats in the room gathered around to watch as the Rat King whispered, "Hand." With the words came the mental command for Dane to start working him.

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