"Damn, I should have waited to turn on the light. Watching you get slack-jawed with surprise would have been great."
The rising action, of course; but how Edmund loathed rushing things. That was the point, wasn't it? If you are to built a construct then you must bring about patience and a plan of which to adapt to. To build upon, haha. What he may consider the most worth while waiting would be the trial of life itself. The long and everlasting days and hour and minutes and seconds he would count them. He would intricately plan chaos and deliver it as just his opposition would. He admired Moriarty. The patience this man had was astounding and he could only rival it, rather than attempt to match it. Perhaps that is why he's here today?
The inhale and exhale from the almost mountainous figure next to him was ragged and disgusting and he made it a point to step away for a moment so he wouldn't be touched by it. He seemed to be such a revolting creature, it baffled him as to how someone as empowered as Jim kept him around and on his leash.
Maybe that was the key word.
Edmund circled the man before gingerly removing the burlap sack on his head. It was a cute thought, though, he almost used a plastic bag but if he struggled too much then he could have died before they got back here. Certainly it wouldn't have made much of a difference.
He revealed the patron, his face drawn in stoicism, his jaw clenched in rage. Edmund released a sound of approval. "Mmm, Sebastian Moran." The way the words fell from him were of questionable intent, yet fell like oil. Sebastian's eyes shot up from the floor, adjusting to the flourescent light of the room, seeking purchase in a reason for his appearance. He found nothing but the sheen black glass and it all seemed to make so much sense. Yet, as soon as the door to the flat was kicked in and he was pulled from the kitchen, he knew something was wrong with Jim or this wouldn't be happening. Jim wouldn't let this happen, and yet, here they were, held captive to some punk ass little cunt with nothing better to do than attempt to play Judas with the Devil. Edmund turns to a table for a moment, approaching it with his feet echoing in the large room, to return and place a leash on Sebastian's neck, tightly. Sebastian writhes at the touch of the other creature, fuming and sweating with shame and fury and rage and fire. His eyes turn to meet Edmund's as he spits on him, not moving to progress worse as he knew the guard would lay him out almost immediately. Edmund almost doesn't falter, more or less wince, with a chuckle as he turns away from Sebastian, wiping his face with his sleeve, handing the handle of the leash to the hulk of a guard, the guard making it a point to yank on it with a good amount of force, making it known that he will not hesitate to strangle him.
One in the same, yet, on a mission to destroy eachother. Wouldn't be the first time Sebastian was a bargaining chip, and probably wouldn't be the last; but being the nasty thing Jim was, he would find a way to get them out of this, somehow. Somehow.
Jim knew exactly who this was that he had brought in as a form of twisted bribery but still he almost gasped at the sight of him. It could have either been because they had nabbed him or the fact that he desperately needed to know what was going to happen next. It seemed painfully obvious but he still held that curiosity of his. Sebastian was still expendable but there wasn't any reason that Edmund needed to know that. Yet it was absolutely infuriating that Jim should see Sebastian in this manner, because it meant that Jim had failed. Sebastian was his lifeline in a way that was inexplainable to someone who didn't require a toy shield. It meant he hired a piece of shit that didn't work. His toy was broken and he didn't want to play with it anymore.
Yet here he is, not laughing at this cherade, not laughing at the fact that he is in there, because he is striving to pick up the pieces of the toy. For whatever reason. He could always get another, honestly; but this was his favorite, he couldn't do without. Not to mention all of that work of getting another one. It would be gruesome. Jim will have to do with a battered mangled thing once they leave this place.
"Cute toy, Jim, really." How coy. "I've thought about getting one but I'm far too busy." Edmund shrugged, clicking his tongue as he watched him.
"Here's the thing." He starts. "I know, I know you don't want to work with me. I get that." He raises his hands almost playing pacifist at the glass, approaching it (that makes sense, Sebastian thinks. He wonders if Jim is watching him. Eyes on me, eyes on me, he thinks) steadily. "In this case, it means I'll be losing a crucial, crucial part of what I had planned for me. For us." he sighs, his face unfaltering from a soft smile. Jim imagines clawing his eyes out. Sebastian imagining worse.
"It's pretty silly that I will make no intrusion on your business outside of merely seeking the same purpose, in select cases, of course," he chuckles, condiscendingly. "Yet you refuse my contributions to your system. You're a child, Moriarty. Don't be ridiculous."
Jim's hands ball into fists at that moment, becoming more enraged at the small man behind the looking glass before he hears the click of the release of a safety on an assault rifle to his left. The rage and the tension in the room is aflame and Edmund has tossed the empty can of gasoline. If it wasn't his toy he was going to maim and steal, it was his pride, that which he exemplified extraordinarily. Exhaling, he attempted to relax in his seat, his knee bouncing.
"All you need to say is, 'Sure, why not?'" Edmund replied, mocking the Irish lilt Jim bled. "And we can all get out of here and forget about it, right?" He waved his arms to either side of him, playing the mock-pacifist again.
Jim continued to say nothing, for an expanse of time that would not cease. It was either due to his curiosity, or the fact that he would continue to make his mark in this game that Edmund had developed. Another game to play, Jim was always good at them, this would certainly be one for the books.
Edmund turned to face Sebastian again. "So what do you say, Colonel? Sound like fun? You're spitting with excitement I can tell." he grinned at that. Sebastian almost smirked, mentally ripping Edmund's head from his shoulders.
"Think you're a right clever shit, do you?" his voice was hard, thick against the atmosphere. Edmund raised his brows in intrigue at the sniper's words. "Thinkin' you can break me. Ought to rip your bollocks off and feed 'em to this shit." his bound elbows and hands motioned toward the larger gentleman to his right, but was soon met with a heavy fist to the gut. Sebastian wasn't expecting it so soon and struggled to keep his footing as he doubled over for a moment with a heave, coughing as he attempted to keep his stature, the pain shooting into his spine.
"Don't be moronic, Sebastian. Your hands are tied." Edmund laughed, again, biting his lip at his own clever, clever words.
"So I had a couple ideas, and we can go about them a little bit while we figure out what we're gonna do about business, right?" He nodded to Jim as he passed the large plate of glass, his feet shuffling to another table toward the back of the large room, smirking at the sound of Sebastian spitting blood. Funny, they were just getting started and he's already bleeding. The table was covered in metal tools and instruments, used primarily for embalming and preservation. Bottles of this and that and chemicals difficult to pronounce by anyone who wasn't an expert in them.
"It's funny that the Egyptians used such simple and menial things to perserve their corpses. Palm oil, salt, little things you find in the kitchen. Of course I guess that makes it easier, but, it takes much longer. Wouldn't wanna leave a dead body out in the sun for 40 days, right?" He says this as if Jim doesn't already know. Perhaps another knock at his pride. Edmund hummed from across the room, gathering a select few things. He turns on his heels with a couple of things - a large pair of scissors as well as a large sized syringe. "The thing is, I've come up with a few things that make all of that unnecessary." He hears Sebastian struggle aganist the leash for a moment, almost cringing at the sound of him fuming again. "Don't be alarmed, I don't plan on using any of it on you. Just this little thingy I've thrown together." Edmund nods to the guard, the man responing by pulling Sebastian's head to the side by his hair to expose his neck, the other hand of the mammoth of a man grasping a hand around his windpipe, attempting to paralyze him from moving.
In all respect, Sebastian knew if he didn't comply with all of this bullshit, Jim wasn't getting out of here. Those black, cavernous eyes behind the glass, he felt them watching him. He knew. If he fucked this up he wouldn't be doing his job. If he moved and knocked the big shit and the little shit on their asses, then Jim would be shot. He knew. There was no damn way that he was getting out if Sebastian decided to fuck around. If Edmund were to die, so would Jim. It was a powerplay that had developed. They've been through trials like this before, but this has reached a cataclysm. He knew he had to face the fire. Before he could think, there was a terrific pain at the base of his neck for a long moment, followed by a red heat travelling through his blood and his skin and his bone at a rapidfire pace. It was as if he felt his soul leave his body.
"Formaldehyde and isopropyl. Just a couple things I had lying around. You're gonna get all itchy pretty quick here, so sit tight." The guard releases Sebastian from his grasp as Edmund brings a fist hard into Sebastian's sternum, the shock from the needle and the room and the pressure and from Edmund knocking him to his knees. "That was quick." Edmund laughed.
The small man brings another hand to Sebastian's face, once, twice, as if he were attempting to smash his nose into his skull. Granted, all of the tiny bones would probably find their way into his brain, so he stops, wiping his blood on Sebastian's shirt before remembering the scissors in his hands.
"I forgot to mention," Edmund began, catching his breath. "You're going to go blind in a few moments."
A little late for that, you prick, Sebastian thinks, attempting to blink away the cloudiness forming. His skin is on fire and everything is beginning to hurt and he almost doesn't notice his face being smashed in. He spits out a couple teeth, coughing and spraying blood on the guard's shoes, which, earns him a kick in the jaw. He didn't even intend to spit on them, he hadn't even noticed. Sebastian began writhing on the floor, craving relief from the irritation burning him and for a moment he forgets that Jim is watching. Jim is watching and he is watching him become useless and it is almost horrifying. He would never admit it but the absolute last thing Sebastian would want would be for Jim to watch him become a pile of meat and nothing else. It wasn't as if thought Jim hadn't already thought of that, but he was a pile of meat with purpose. A seperate ache almost grew in his gut.
Clenching his eyes shut, reopening them, black, then blurred, a flash of light followed with the figure infront of him suddenly so much louder, the deprivation kicking in. Cutting off senses concentrates the others and he fucking knew this and it was beginning to eat away at his brain.
"Don't make this stupid, Sebastian, please? I said please." A heavy poke at his gut rose a small cry from the sniper, followed by a ripping sound as Edmund was cutting his clothes off. "Try to make this as entertaining as possible, we don't want to upset Jim. He is watching you and we don't want him to refuse my offer." he grinned, and Sebastian swore he could see a flash of white teeth. "We gotta put on a show, entertain our guests." With a last attempt at rebellion, Sebastian spit red hot on the figure infront of him.
"Fucking cunt!" he shouted.
"Again! With the spitting!" Edmund cackled, wiping his face with the tattered cloth in his hand, moving to nudge the tip of his shoe against Sebastian's lips as he stood, humming with approval. "Such pretty lips shouldn't do such vile things, you know." Sebastian can't see the shoe probing at his mouth, he can't see the floor he can't see the light and he cannot see the placid glass.
Sighing, as if it were a chore, Edmund moves to finish yanking off Sebastian's trousers, his shoes and his underwear, tossing any remnants of his clothes aside along with the scissors, crossing his arms, watching him for a moment. Sebastian was almost relieved at the feel of the friction of his irritated skin. The pain and the pressure of the room caving in on his head, the pain rushing blood abashedly to his cock of all places, he grunted in irritation as he rolled against the floor, his vision dissipated into a cloudy black, as if he had forgotten what sight was. He had reached the ultimate level of incapability, of the inability to function properly. He would be nothing to Jim now without his sight. It was a sad tragic day and he has lost everything at this exact moment, so early in this game. He had lost and he would be gladly greeted with death but he cannot. He must strive to be sure of Jim's safety. He has to finish his fucking job.
"You look ready." Edmund sounded. "Well, half ready." he took the leash from the guard, yanking Sebastian onto his back, promptly placing his shoe on his cock. "I can only imagine the sights that Jim has seen you in. Coming so undone, it must have been fantastic." He's applying pressure now and Sebastian gasps at the sensation, deprivation causing the touch to amplify a great deal. Edmund turns his head to face the glass, curious as to Jim's reaction to all of this. "I wonder if he's gotten off in there." he chuckles.
A pause before a tiny gasp from Edmund. "Oh myyyy," he lilts on. "What is this?" He crouches, his foot still strategously placed, attempting not to crush him underfoot, not this soon, in any case. The slender fingers of his captor, touch a bevelled spot of skin, that wasn't really a spot more of his entire hip, practically, a massive scar of 'M' placed there, the skin dark and embossed as if it had been broken more than once. "I see how this is, this is no surprise to me. How cute, really." Edmund ponders for a moment on the mark of property, intrigued. He forgets his foot is crushing Sebastian's dick, lifting it away gives way for a strangled moan from the sniper, attempting to repress his erection.
"Well, looks like we're getting somewhere."