I’m the king of the animals (closed)

Entry tags:

I’m the king of the animals (closed)

Who: Handsome Jack + Giovanni Rammsteiner
Where: The Prisoner Intake Facility
When: W4D6
Summary: take your dog to work day
Restrictions/Warnings: ...Also violence, bad jokes, etc.

[ Hanging out a processing's front door yesterday was pretty okay, but after a day of that? Jack's pretty bored. So he considers it also pretty lucky that despite the way things are going lately, that request he'd put in not long after he met the guy came through. Which, honestly? He was kind of surprised about. Even though they couldn't prove anything, he's fairly sure that the Company has their own idea of why one of their "dogs" disappeared, because the circumstances were pretty telling. For anyone else, that'd probably be enough for him to end up right where he's overlooking now. But Jack has connections in high places, and the quality of his work isn't easily replaced.

So, it works for him.

He leans on the metal railing of the walkway that overlooks the sparse exercise field below. It was required for cases like this where processing ends up getting slowed down by things like weather, political circumstances, or in this case? Quarantine. There are a couple of criminals milling about, and every once in a while, they cast a wary glance up to Handsome Jack, but much more often to the young man next to him. Jack is expected. Giovanni isn't. ]

Man— Just look at 'em, Gio. Scum, all of 'em, and every single one of them? Super deserves to be here.

[ He laughs as he points to one woman in particular, who notices the gesture and sneers up at them both. ]

Like- See that chick? Cannibalism. Guy next to her was into it too, so they're here as like a freaky murder power couple. Crazy assholes have been in here since before the quarantine, and you can tell, they are just waiting for comeuppance on that one.

[ He looks to Giovanni with a smile, who's probably tried to avoid talking to Jack most of the day... Which, fair. ]

So, good thing you're here, right kiddo? You said you wanted something fun to do, and I- Well. I'm feelin' like that'll be easy. Y'know. If you're still interested or whatever.

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[If the success of the request is a surprise for Jack, it's possibly even more so for Giovanni. They've entered a time of flux, unrest fastmoving and unsteady in the wake of the engineered sickness and everything is in a state of perpetual motion, much to do, unwanted elements to dispose of, all of that. He'd have thought they would have wanted to make use of him elsewhere, and that Jack's request for him was approved in the midst of all this only further indicates the level of clout the man has managed to garner for himself among the higher echelons of the Company.

In truth, it irritates him. Makes his desire for 'comeuppance' an even more out of reach dream. But then, this is nothing new. A fact which only further compounds the feelings that have been festering in him for the longest, longest time.

No matter.

He's here and despite his bonedeep dislike, his stubborn attempts at minimum engagement, Jack gets his obedience all the same. And despite himself, there's the glimmer of interest in him when they reach the railings overlooking the exercise yard, as they look down at the prisoners milling about like cattle waiting to be slaughtered. Because that's how it seems to him, and even before Jack starts talking it's loud and dark red inside of himself, buzzing through his head and behind his eyes and up along his Spine because why keep them here like this when they serve no purpose at all, when they've already ruined themselves with their actions?

He observes them as directed, listens quietly to what Jack has to say and while he feels no particular affront over the idea of cannibalism (and herein lies the problem with having created something like the Dogs, why they need to be watched so closely-- their distinctly grey morals could easily become a problem under the wrong circumstances), he sees no reason for them to go on living, either. The woman sneers up at them, and Giovanni smiles back, but there's nothing friendly or amicable about the expression. It's hardly a smile at all, skirts the borders of becoming something else.

He looks up at Jack finally, when the words run out. Still smiling that glacial smile.]

Oh, you know how it is, Mr Marten. I'm always up for a spot of fun.

[ Jack looks back to Giovanni as he settles with his hands on his hips, almost curious, but not quite enough to say anything else. There's probably often a sense that Jack is trying to figure Giovanni out in some sense whether they're meeting in person or talking through text, and he doesn't really try to hide that. He doesn't quite feel he needs to, since even if there are some aspects where treating Giovanni like a tool brushes up against what little morality he has left, there are paradoxically others where it doesn't seem to bother him. ]

Glad to hear it. And— I mean, you know you don't have to call me mister, right? I'm big on the casual thing.

[ But he knows that Giovanni knows. He'll still just insist on it, because there's no small part of people using his surname that makes him a little uncomfortable. He's not exactly proud of the family name, which is more why he prefers Jack (sometimes Handsome).

He waves his hand for Giovanni to follow as he starts to walk down the walkway. ]

Anyways, you are in luck then! Because- Well, just between you and me, that is a pair that noooo one is going to miss. So. Fun times for everyone cleaning up!

[ He pauses by an Enforcer to clap him on the shoulder ] Hey, you know the cannibals? Bring 'em down.

[ There's another pat on the person's shoulder before they hurry away despite the pretty sparse instructions. It seems like this is common enough that with that little direction, they know what to do. As Jack leads the way to their next destination, he of course continues talking. ]

Now, generally speaking here, this is the kind of thing I take care of personally, since I try to do good work, yadda yadda yadda, but! I'm not gonna pass up comin' through on my promise either! You're probably dying for more fun. Like- Okay, if you can, be real with me here. Last job you had, let me guess? Bodyguard? Didn't even get to do anything?

I'm aware.

[He says it quietly, though loud enough for the words to be discerned, and perhaps that's exactly why he continues to call Jack by his last name, use the honorific-- there's part of him that does it out of habit, conditioning hammered down into his bones, but there's the discomfort, too. Slight as it is. A subtle insubordination. Until Jack orders him into informality (and therein lies the irony) he'll continue to call him mister.

He seems relaxed enough under the man's assessing gaze, accustomed as he is to being scrutinized and observed, and when Jack motions with his hand, Giovanni obediently follows. Falls back into silence as Jack talks. He takes the time, instead, to make subtle observations of his own, less blatant but nonetheless present, the way Jack uses casual touch along with his laid-back commands, the lack of a need for specifics. There's a certain level of dominance in that, he thinks, a particular form of control, even if it's done with a lighter hand than the kind he himself is accustomed to.

Giovanni says nothing of it, continues to walk those respectful two steps behind. Remains silent as the grave until the moment the questions come.]

I won't lie, I'm always eager to get my teeth into something meaty. My most recent assignments have consisted of making bonfires [consisting of the dead, but you know] and yes, security detail. More than a little dull, I assure you.

[The security detail having been for Rhys of House Kendry, and that-- well. It was out of the ordinary, to say the least, as are all his dealings with that man. Taking a Dog when you're visiting a friend for tea and cake seems a bizarre use of Company resources, but who is he to argue against a member of the Nine?]

Ahhh, yeah, see? You're about to have a good day then. Because- Heh, don't know if your choice of words there was intentional, but I'm kinda digging the irony.

[ Because at this point, when Giovanni is this deep into Jack's section of Intake, there's no need to hide what goes on here. At least, for some people. It's actually a very small fraction of the population that comes through his doors that gets his specific attention, one percent at best, but that attention was where Jack's notoriety came from.

He leads them down and off to the side, down a hallway that doesn't seem like it gets too much use. It's all holding cells that are empty and clean, but Giovanni can probably pick up the smells of what this section is for. Underneath the smell of cleaning chemicals, there's blood. Jack pauses at one cell, pulling open the gate and stepping inside. He takes a seat in the plastic chair, and he motions to another as an offer for Giovanni to do the same if he wants. ]

So! Just gotta wait a few minutes, and we'll get this party started. I— [ He breaks his sentence with a laugh ] You know, gotta be honest here, I am really lookin' forward to this. It's been a rough week, y'know? Nothing like overcoming your illness by taking it out on some scumbag asshole.

[ Though something seems to occur to him, and he does add: ]

Oh, yeah, and you can do whatever you want, but don't kill 'em. That's gotta be me.

[Giovanni smiles his serrated smile, says nothing-- but there had been a certain level of intent in his choice of words, an indication of his desires, the kind of job he'd like to be doing. And there are things he can say about Jack, things he feels, black and twisted like a festering wound, but overlaying that are the other things, the shape of their previous discussions.

There's not a part of him that doubts this won't be fun. That the Company man will make good on his word.

And the promise of things to come is right there in that narrow corridor, the holding cells that line it. Neat and clean, yes, and there's the pungent stink of disinfectant, an unpleasant burning of his heightened senses, but under that like a whispered memory is the old penny scent of blood. He feels it then, the electric rush along his Spine, knocking hollow behind his ribs, and when they reach the chosen cell he follows Jack inside, crosses the short distance to the offered chair with smooth even steps. Even sits.

He leans forward a little, elbows on knees, eyes on the other man's face and it might be discernible there, the hot light of excitement, the penned-in violence waiting to be released. He listens quietly, and then there's the sharp click of his tongue against his teeth, another quick and icy smile.]

Taking the best part for yourself, I see. It's not usually what I do, slow torment. It's ending life that I was designed for. But sometimes it's good to get the chance to branch out.

[The sharp bark of his laugh, and then--]

But I understand, and I do aim to please. Your week's about to get better.

[ He watches and notices that excitement, and there's a part of Jack's smile that reaches to his eyes on seeing it. That smile isn't quite vicious, though. He seems to be genuinely pleased at Giovanni's excitement, as if he were taking some kind of pleasure himself in the fact that Giovanni is excited instead of the sort of surprisingly scathing neutral he tended to normally coast at. Handsome Jack is a man of his word, after all. He'll only ever call Giovanni for the type of work he said he'd enjoy. ]

Ehhh, not quite taking the best part for myself just because. [ He waves a hand dismissively, but it comes with a small grin. He may have different reasons for wanting to be the one to strike that final blow in technicalities, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't enjoy it. ]

That part? That's just image. I've got a reputation to uphold, and a big part of that means using my resources wisely, sure, but that last part of some miserable waste of sperm's life? That's gotta be me. That—

[ He emphasizes the word like punctuation as he leans back casually. Footsteps start to echo down the corridor, complete with the howling of someone very much not happy to be here. ]

That is why I'm sittin' pretty enough to be able to call you down here at all. Because, I mean— You know it, I know it. If it wasn't for me being me, you think the Company would really lend you out to some Intake manager?

[He's listening to Jack, he is, and some part of him notes the genuine flicker of pleasure in his expression, something Giovanni can't quite place or understand (why would he want to please him, after all, when he's just a Dog a tool a weapon to be used and one Jack has - in his mind - wronged, left behind), but his focus isn't entirely there anymore. Even before the sound of footsteps and unhappy wailing makes itself apparent to Jack, Giovanni picks up on it, senses sharp and finely honed and he knows it's coming now, that the game is about to start. It's right there in him, an unsteady energy zipping beneath the surface of his skin, and briefly his eyes cut in the direction of the cell door, just a moment before the sounds of approach assert themselves to human ears.

It's a subtle thing though, still - for the moment - kept in check, and politely he tries to keep the majority of his attention on his superior, respond to him like any good subordinate should.]

Oh, I'm aware of that, Mr Marten. That they allowed you the use of me attests quite clearly to the level of clout you have within the Company. A little surprising, but--

[he shrugs loosely, goes on smiling, and really the lie is in the word 'surprising' because whilst it's an unexpected thing, he's always had some idea of it. That Jack been able to catch the eye of someone like Professor Einsturzen, that she'd been invested enough in whatever the man had to offer to divert her pet project in an altogether different direction than the one originally intended, that he'd managed to steal an expensive piece of weaponry and yet somehow escape without damage to either his person or reputation-- well. It says plenty. Says more than enough.]

--as you like it, then. You're reputation is safe in my hands.

[Today. And realistically, every other day to follow, as well. But it's clear that he intends to do as he's been told, reserve the killing blow for the man seated across from him now.

Finally, more overtly this time, Giovanni's attention goes to the door of the cell. Alert and expectant.]

[ It's in situations like this that Jack feels nothing short of powerful.

Sure, he liked violence as much as the next guy, but there was something about this kind of situation that really got him going more. The final blow was always his, but everything up to that? Jack didn't tend to bother. Not for people that hadn't personally wronged him. It was much, much sweeter to have someone else doing the work for him. The idea of having people willing to work for him and do exactly that meant control and prestige, and that was what Jack wanted. So as he's watching Giovanni, seeing him get more excited, even if it's slight, it gets Jack's smile to split into a grin in turn.

He reaches into one of his pockets to pull out a pack of cigarettes, and naturally, without asking, he starts to take one for himself. He's going to enjoy this to its fullest, he thinks.

The woman is dragged closer, though she's futilely trying to dig her heels in to stop being dragged by the two Enforcers. Another pair holds the other half of the "power couple" as Jack had called them earlier, and Jack speaks to them first. ]

Yeah, one at a time. We'll let the other half watch.

[ He pauses, lighting up his cigarette just for show as the woman's screaming of fear instead starts to shift to angry. He puffs out a cloud of smoke, then turns to Giovanni. He hasn't responded to anything about what he said, since he hadn't quite had anything further to say for once. But with a toothy smile, he offers Giovanni a choice: ]

Your pick, bucko. Which one you want first?

[The lighting of the cigarette has him wrinkling his nose, the scent of it strong enough to irritate for someone with senses like his own, but of course he says nothing of it, makes no protest, and honestly the majority of his focus is already directed elsewhere. Towards the cell door as the Enforcers appear, dragging their hapless cargo along with them.

Slowly, smoothly, Giovanni rises to his feet. His smile, it's a wide and terrible thing.

He makes no further move of approach though, waiting for the word, for permission, and when Jack asks his question Giovanni drags his hungry appraising gaze away from the angrily screaming woman, her partner still a little behind, standing in stunned ugly silence. He glances over his shoulder at Jack, flashes a sharp-toothed smile of his own.]

The noisy one. She smiled so nicely for me earlier, I'm sure she's looking forward to getting to know me better.

[ Jack probably even knows that the cigarette is especially pungent to Giovanni, but he's never exactly been a guy for manners. His attention had been on the pair brought in at first, but as soon as Giovanni rises, his attention shifts to him. After all, his intentions here were twofold. One, he really did just need those two jackholes taken care of in one way or another, and two— Well. He'd always heard what Angelika's pet project were made for, what they were best at, but he'd never seen it. So part of this is definitely because he wants to.

He takes a drag from the cigarette as energy thrums through the air, because he's drawing this out just a bit. It's not to taunt Giovanni, but the woman, because in his experience? Anticipation is killer. ]

This where I say something like "sic 'em"?

[ He jokes, but with a wave of his hand and a laugh, he gives his permission with a smooth smile. ]

Nah, I'm just kiddin'. Have at her, Gio.

[And perhaps that drawn-out moment isn't meant as a taunt for him, but nonetheless there's still all the pent-up violence gathering thick and fast beneath his skin, a jitter and a thrum that echoes through his bones, a scrabble along the Spine that he can almost (almost) feel. His breath threatens to catch in his throat and he can feel the unsteady jump of his heart and yet he remains there poised and waiting right up until the moment Jack says the words.

Sic 'em. Have at her. Hahah. And like a well-trained dog, that's exactly what he does.

He's all sleek sinuous movement as he closes the distance between the woman and her captor, although the Enforcer abruptly lets go and scrambles back with his eyes betraying just a flash of fear in the face of Giovanni's approach. He pays no mind to the man however, no mind at all, and instead he's grasping the now-screaming woman with pale fingers that wrap around her wrist, spin her round and pull her arm up and back in an action that looks almost choreographed, almost like dancing. Graceful, but for the sickening snap of bone that rings out loud and clear in the small cell just moments before he slams her face-first into the wall.

He lifts her then, clear off her feet, body scraping along the rough brick, free hand sliding up along her back in a twisted parody of affection. That free hand keeps moving until it's slipping slowly across her neck, moving round until it encircles her jaw. Almost gentle at first, it seems, but then his fingers are slowly pressing in and she makes a desperate agonised sound as slowly he crushes the bones there with a bright and beautiful crack that passes into and through him and makes him shudder with unbridled animal excitement.

He leans in close, and the words he murmurs are just loud enough for Jack to hear.]

I've heard you like the taste of human flesh. What a coincidence. Because - and this is the part I'm sure you're going to enjoy - so do I.

[And then his sharp-edged teeth find the angle between shoulder and throat. Bite down hard.]

[ Jack watches with nothing short of rapt attention as Giovanni works. His mismatched eyes are focused intensely not on the woman, since he's not concerned about her, but on Giovanni. He has to admit, the guy has got style. Violent, vicious style, but style all the same, and that's something he can appreciate. Well, and the brutality. The snap of bone gets Jack to exaggeratedly wince as if in sympathy, but his own toothy grin shows that he feels nothing of the sort.

He pauses only to give the Enforcer a nod to let him know without speaking that he's dismissed. The other half of this pair is starting to get more than a little unnerved himself considering what he's witnessing, and that is absolutely the point. Jack's already thinking that he's going to request Giovanni's work again, because this? This is exactly what he's looking for when it comes to taking care of scumbags like this.

Isn't it great when violence solves your problems? He sure as hell thinks so. And so as Giovanni takes his bite out of her, Jack just takes a long, leisurely drag on the cigarette. He's completely unbothered by what he watches, and in fact, it only pulls out a thrum of excitement in his chest. Though, still. He'd be perfectly content with letting Giovanni pretty literally eat her alive because that's poetic and crap, but— ]

Yeah, remember, she's gotta be alive. I- Hah, well, who am I kiddin'? You'll know. When she's about to die, just back off.

[ There's a slight order in his tone there, but it easily returns to a smooth, relaxed amusement. ]

But otherwise? Consider me impressed. Go to town.

[He pulls briefly back and away when Jack begins to speak, teeth tearing free and there's gore and shorn-off flesh caught up between them, blood coating his face, eyes lit up with a manic kind of light. Feral and predatory, yes, but there's enough reason and logic remaining in him to take heed of what Jack's saying, to flash the man a red-stained smile. He's perfectly in control.

He spits out his mouthful of flesh whilst the woman in his grasp makes broken sounds of agony and fear, smiles wider--]

Will do, Sir.

[And then he spins the woman round in an elegant arc, still held by the broken arm, before hurling her against the opposite wall. There's the ugly dull thud of flesh hitting brick before she slides down into a heap on the floor. He follows swiftly, a nimble leap that has him landing over her, straddling her as he looks down into her face and drinks up all the terror there. It's beautiful big bright and he can feel his heart begin to sing.

His hands press down then, searching out her ribs, fingers move deft and fluid as a pianists across the push of bone, the bright snap as they break under the pressure he exerts filling the room like music, one by one. He wants more of this, more than this, would like to shove his hand inside of her, plunging in through the solar plexus to rifle through the wet ribbons of her insides, but already her damp unsteady breaths tell him he's punctured a lung, and the raw wound he's ripped into her means she's slowly bleeding out.

He's out of time.

Reluctantly, he stands up, straightens, turns back towards Jack.]

All yours, Mr Marten.

[Already, his eyes are straying away from Jack to the panicking prisoner that remains, as yet untouched, but soon to be.]

[ Jack watches, fascinated as Giovanni works, and while even the Enforcer looks away in revulsion, that's not the case for Jack. He feels a thrill at watching this that shows in how his smile spreads across his face easily. He's not one for actually getting as involved as Giovanni, sure, but he loves violence. There's a power in it that he's always been intoxicated with, because it just feels right to him. People die all the time, but what's better than someone dying that deserves it? Really, he's helping the Quad out, even though not everyone could see that. It's why this room is so hidden and tucked away, because someone might disapprove of the kind of brutality that Jack promotes with a grin on his face. ]

Oh, now that is what I'm talkin' about—

[ Jack starts with a laugh in his voice, but it's also meant to pull Giovanni back to reality as he starts getting a little too into his fun here. He has to be the one to kill her, and he pulls out his pistol for just that purpose. He doesn't tell Giovanni to back off, patiently waiting, and he's pleased when the order is followed. He gives him a nod, then steps forward. ]

Good- Hey, hey, you still breathing, sweetheart? [ He speaks to her now, and he plants a foot on her side, which makes her gurgle out a pained noise because of how it pushes against the loose, broken bones. ] Yeaaaah, that's what I thought. You're gonna die. Like, super obviously! But, hey, at least you get to go first, and your little boyfriend here just gets to watch. Actually, I'm surprised he hasn't pissed himself, since- Since, I mean, he's gotta know what's coming next here!

[ He digs his shoe against her, but he points the gun down. ]

Hey, but think of it this way— At least you two people-eating lovebirds get to go together. That's romantic for scumbags, right? What could be better than you dying together, killed by a hero, right?

[ Even if it's feeble, she starts to retort hatefully to the word hero, but with a laugh, Jack cuts her off. He pulls the trigger of his pistol, and the sound lingers and echoes in the cell. The bullet in her head stops her moving, but without even pausing, Jack looks back and waves the other in. ]

Got a lot to do today though, so, c'mon, bring in number two here. This one is all yours, Gio, since this chick? She was the one technically someone had it out for. I just got a twofer for funsies.

[And Giovanni, ever the obedient hound, stands back and slightly to one side as Jack makes his fancy little speech, stays silent and still despite the way his bones continue to sing with violence, hands buzzing at his sides, the ache in nails and eyeteeth real and assertive as he feels the man waiting for death behind him like a skittering sentience. Hero Jack says, and almost Giovanni laughs himself, has his own scathing thoughts on the use of the word, but of course he keeps such thoughts to himself. Besides, it's hard to keep focused on such things when he knows there's more to come, that playtime isn't over yet. His excitement, it's an effervescent thing.

The shot rings out, hard and bright in the small space of the room, and then Jack's looking back with a wave of the hand, the Enforcer stepping reluctantly inside, his face stoic but pale in the wake of such overt horror. Then the words come, and Giovanni's smile, it's a wide and glittering thing.]

Thank you, Sir.

[And he means it from the bottom of his black little heart. Hastily, the Enforcer lets his captive go and takes a few abrupt steps back, the flutter of his rabbitheart something Giovanni can almost hear but he needn't worry, needn't fear-- his attention is entirely on the man he'd pushed into the room, the one trying to scurry back and away towards the safety of the door, but--

--but. There will be no salvation for him. None besides the cold hard ending found beneath Giovanni's hands. Given the all clear to play as he wants, Giovanni wastes no time with this one, leaps forward with a predatory grace and brings the prisoner crashing to the ground. There's the sharp smack of the man's head against concrete, the hard ugly angles of his scream, a sound that mixes with Giovanni's laughter as he straddles the man's chest in much the same way he'd done to his lover only moments before and this time his hand raises poised above his chest for a smattering of brief bright seconds before plunging down with all the sharp force of a dagger, slamming right though his flesh.

There's the wet tearing sound as his skin splits open and Giovanni's fingers push inside, yank out intestines like grisly party streamers, scattering them across the ground. And he pushes in deeper then, up up up behind the cage of the man's ribs until he's grasping at his lungs, twists hard, fingers digging in and around until those organs so necessary for one's survival are reduced to a pulverised mess caught up in his palm. The man's scream turns to a moist gurgle of pain, black blood pulsing up from between his lips, spattering his face. He twitches, once, twice, then lies there still in a pool of his own blood and steaming viscera as Giovanni pulls his hand free of the body with something like slow regret on his face. Not regret for taking his life, no, only that it's already over.

He remains where he is a moment, bent over the husk of the cannibal's body, turns to glance back at Jack with a slow, but satisfied sigh.]

They always break so quickly. A pity.

[ Truth be told, Jack was on the hook to kill this guy too, but hey, that request was mostly for the "miss" half here, and the "mister" was more a bonus. And besides, what they don't know won't hurt them considering the end result here. That end result is grisly and grotesque, more than what people tend to expect, but Jack wanted to take Giovanni off his proverbial leash, at least for a few minutes.

He wanted to see just what Angelika's work could do.

A lot, as it turns out, and seeing guts pulled out like Giovanni's an overexcited kid with a present almost gets even Jack's stomach to churn. He's repulsed by this level of violence, in truth. It's messy, brutal, and purposeless. Jack enjoyed violence, but he also wouldn't quite go this far either. It's not like he hasn't seen things like it before, because Westie was never exactly a kind place, but it still pulls out a feeling of displeasure and disgust. He tries to think of a word to describe it, and the first one that comes to mind is a bit odd, though he dismisses it quickly. "Bandit" comes to mind first, for some reason.

But he ignores the churning of his own stomach, hiding it behind his proverbial mask more than his literal one, since the wide grin never falters. When Giovanni finishes his work, Jack only claps his hands together with a delighted laugh. ]

Good work, kiddo! Those dick munchers- which, literal, by the way— Yeah, they super got what was comin' to 'em. Right, buddy?

[ The question is directed towards the Enforcer, who seems a bit like he might be ill, but Jack doesn't even give a half second of attention before stepping forward to give Giovanni a pat on the shoulder. ]

Promise is a promise. I only call you for the fun stuff.

[It's a sick and dissonant thing, the way Jack's words seep into him, fill him with a hot kind of pleasure and pride that's nonetheless edged with self-loathing. Because he hates this man, he does, and yet the praise he doles out still floods the Dog in the most visceral kind of way, makes him glad, hungry for it, the way a starving man craves sustenance.

It's not something he often receives, yet something he always always craves.

There's the firm clap of the Company man's hand on his shoulder, and yes there's a measure of the old distaste at the feel of his his palm pressed against muscle and bone, but despite himself Giovanni still looks up at him with gratitude and bright pleasure showing around the corners of his expression, evident in the glitter of his eyes. It's a pathetic thing, he thinks, makes him vaguely despise himself, but that doesn't make the contentment he gleans from it any less real. His smile is genuine beneath the blood that coats his face, and slowly he stands, wipes off his red-smeared hands on his already blood-darkened uniform.]

I do try, Mr Marten.

[And it's true. He does. Wants, from the very core of himself, to please.]

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I’m the king of the animals (closed)

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