A/N: Graphic Depictions of Violence. Contains cutting by sharp instruments.
There is an instilled sense of duty that comes with the job, Roxy thinks, when she reads the official brief for senior agents in regards to the orientation lesson. If that means violating Eggsy's trust in her with an inexplicably violent series of actions, then she has to do it, for the sake of England, or something along those lines. And Eggsy, well, he ought to come out the other end and get on with it. The world needs saving and it just so happens that this one little ritual stands between now and Kingsman getting a new Galahad, a full house so to speak.
Roxy wills away a sense of doom as she clicks open the door to one of the grimy basement rooms, typically used for somewhat questionable interrogations, and apparently this. It's the same shabby grey drenched in fluorescent as she remembers, easily passed off as storage room in a warehouse and maybe that's the kind of illusion it's supposed to create. Now it all just seems strange. Eggsy, blindfolded and near naked, stood in the middle of the room and all her tools neatly set out on a metal platter on the ground. She can see in that moment what Merlin meant with his comment, because despite having his back towards her, Eggsy radiates the tension of a supercoiled spring and her mouth goes dry.
"You should know that this is an appointed assignment and I had no choice in the matter," she says, because where's the point in not getting to the point right away. Roxy thinks the tension doesn't go anywhere, just transforms into liquid confusion.
"'Aight, this is definitely the weirdest thing Kinsman's done to me." Eggsy says and the question of what exactly that might even turn out to be lingers unspoken in the air.
"Trust me, it'll get a lot worse. Now, you don't know what's about to happen, but I'll apologise in advance and I suppose the forgiveness isn't negotiable in this case," Roxy announces as she moves over to look at a selection of neatly sharpened blades that glitter in the white light of the room, "Strictly business and nothing personal. Merlin did this to me and Harry did it to him and one day you'll do it some poor sod, who has no idea what's hit him." Her mouth twitches with an involuntary smile from the pun and she's glad Eggsy can't see it.
He turns toward the sound of her voice and it doesn't take a genius to make out he's worried. "Rox, you're kinda fr-"
"It's Lancelot," she snaps and adds, "Shut up. You're not allowed to speak, no matter what. In fact, I'd prefer it if you kept the screams and grunts to minimum." Roxy is surprised by how easy it is to slip into indifference, but thinks regardless that she might even reward him, if he does well. She'll injure Galahad and salvage Eggsy in whatever way that is possible for two separate beings that share a single body.
"Let's start, shall we?" she asks for good measure, and Eggsy doesn't say a word as she picks out a good old Swiss army knife to start off with. She tests it on herself and commands him down on his knees and hands in a tone that doesn't allow bargaining.
There's a tiny surge of satisfaction coursing through her, when he gets on the ground, the soles of his feet folding up towards the roof as his palms flatten out against the ground. Roxy straddles him, but doesn't put any of her weight on his body, taking a moment to mentally prepare herself for the task at hand. She examines the lines of his back and the muscles underneath the skin, considers carefully where to make the first incision. She places the blade against the inner edge of his left shoulder blade and applies just enough pressure to cut the skin. As she cuts a straight line, Eggsy's breath hitches, and Roxy stops there.
She repeats the same measures on his right shoulder blade and draws an added diagonal line across to break Merlin's pattern of symmetry. Unlike with whips, every cut of a knife is to be treated as unique and Roxy deems she could afford Eggsy's skin the same leverage.
All three newly inflicted wounds swell with dark blood making an effort to squeeze out of Eggsy's veins and pearl onto his skin. Roxy watches a single drop skid off towards his spine before getting off of his back. "All right, stand up. We don't have all day," she mutters and hastily walks over to his side, where his wounds can't be seen. Roxy switches out the army knife for a carpet knife, clicking the blade out with a tell tale sound that even Eggsy recognizes.
She drags it through the skin on his upper arm and takes notice of the way Eggsy's jaw clenches with a slight scrape of his teeth before focusing on the way the knife glides through his flesh like pudding. More blood eagerly rolls out of the fresh cut and runs all the way down to Eggsy's index finger before dropping to the ground.
His breathing evens out as she thinks about the situation. Cutting someone is very different to beating. There is the blood loss to be considered, and the scarring. Roxy settles for a plain razor blade to use on his legs, because superficial wounds will be easy enough to hide, scars blending right in with his skin under a patch of leg hair. With the very edge she draws a curved line along the underside of his knee and fancies it looks a bit like a twisted smiley face with the dents in his kneecap. On the other leg she outlines his thigh muscles with thin cuts and it's a bit like that one art course she took in uni for the sheer sake of having a little fun. Only that was wiping paint onto canvas, not drawing blood from someone's leg, and Eggsy doesn't seem to enjoy it in the least. Roxy wipes the bloodied blade on his foot and picks up a scalpel for her final move.
"Are you alright?"she asks and it's only a display of good manners, though she wonders how long he can hold his breath like that. Eggsy nods and shivers when more blood drops from his arm to the floor, where it's beginning to far a small puddle. Roxy stares at the liquid rippling with every new droplet and says, "Last set. Just hold on for a while."
And she doesn't know why it suddenly feels so wrong and there's no point looking at it now either. Instead, Roxy places the scalpel against the junction of Eggsy's neck and shoulder, where his clavicle forms a solid line underneath his skin. She drags it along that firmness, a mere fraction of an inch away from the bone and Eggsy's face twists in silent agony. She pulls a second line along the other side of the clavicle to meet the first. In a final stroke of artistic expression she makes it into a misshaped triangle and takes the blade away from his skin.
Roxy sets the bloody scalpel onto the tray beside all the other tools, used and unused, that she wiped off on his body. To him she says, "There's gauze and antiseptic in the dressing room." It strikes her how the task is over and they're there face to face when she unties his blindfold and Eggsy's world comes back into focus. "For the record," she says with half a smile, "you're allowed to speak again."