boxofmisfits | (no subject)

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.