SORDID

A SEEDY UNTANGLEMENT

FERNANDO LIKES TO THINK HE HAS A GOOD GRASP ON HIS EMOTIONS. that he can bottle them when they surface, package them as needed, and store them until appropriate. that’s why everyone says he’s so unreadable. he operates as a well-oiled machine. proper and procedural.

because he knows when to disregard his emotions and when to utilize them. just like how he does people. just like how he does with any other resource that falls under his umbrella.

that’s how he runs silph co. that’s why he runs hoenn.

but even he has his limits. all mortals do.

his fuming is silent. his intent leaks through the cracks in his foundation. his wall has been breached and the heat of his reaction is melting from every pore on his face. the only thing missing is the steam shooting out of his ears.

“…”

his one good eye stares down at her. what once would have divided between matchless ambition or insatiable lust — a coinflip at the time — sees only one thing.

molly fouller.

“good evening."

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
anya fowl

SORDID

A SEEDY UNTANGLEMENT

HIS EYE DOES NOT NARROW. nor does it succumb to her provocation. it does what fernando does best: stay the course. unmoving. unyielding.

“i am not,” he states as fact. definitive in his own absolute.

what he sees is not a person but the separate between skin and cloth. the narrow divide between intelligence and disregard.

“the project was a success.”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
anya fowl

SORDID

A SEEDY UNTANGLEMENT

“I HAVE NEITHER THE TIME NOR PRIVILEGE TO INDULGE.”

a purposeful refusal to hide his lack of urge. there are times where the body, no matter how inflamed, is second to will and principle. to partake now would only sully his own perception of himself. spite, is what tempers an otherwise fragile masculinity.

“just because the project is a success does not mean it is done.”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
anya fowl

SORDID

A SEEDY UNTANGLEMENT

THERE IS NO DESIRE IN THE PHYSICAL BODY. the same trap she tries to tame him with is the same impunity that shoves illeana reyes aside. these people are just that, physical vessels.

the real appeal is the desire within. the validation of wanting. the chemical plume of satisfaction and reciprocation.

and all his want is pointed into one subject.

domination.

“we have a multiverse conspiring against us. mewtwo is undisputed in our world—”

he approaches her.

“—but not the next.”

he squats to meet her at eye level. the way his trousers tense gives him no worry. only at this level, as equals, can he hope to meet her eye to eyes.

“again, i will let you know, this prospect worries me about your safety.”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
anya fowl

SORDID

A SEEDY UNTANGLEMENT

“A NECESSARY SACRIFICE,” he dashes immediately, “to ensure the project was a success.”

he bears his arm for her to see. what once held the WISH TAG is now just plain flesh. scarred with faded markings but skin and bones all the same. until he grimaces.

that’s when the meat bubbles into something inhumane. the same gelatinous texture of the ditto they’ve coagulated.

his other hand is the one that reaches out. to stroke her face in a feeble attempt to brush away her concerns. instead, they only find locks of red hair.

“very well. but know you are not the first nor only one in their camp. again, an unnecessary risk for someone we treasure.”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
anya fowl

SORDID

A SEEDY UNTANGLEMENT

“I DO NOT DOUBT YOUR LOYALTY.”

the whitest of lies, but one fernando says without hesitation. no more different than speaking any other truth.

“but that is not what i am worried about. i have worked with many people in my career, fowl.”

only now does he have hesitance. as if to admit it would be to spoil her. a praise that has no right being brandished so easily.

“you are something special.”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
anya fowl

SORDID

A SEEDY UNTANGLEMENT

CLEAN OF ANY OUTSIDE INFLUENCE, her conditional allegiance fails to strike a nerve. he believes her, that her fascination in all of this trumps even his own, but so too do the fanatic when faced with their obsession.

gods they do not understand but worship all the same. a sick fetish that erodes the mind when synapses of wonder and amazement intertwine.

“i am the blueprint of what it understands to be human. my pain is its pain. my death will be its hibernation.”

his arm no longer budges. plain, ordinary flesh.

“but it will wake up, with or without me, and it will be the blueprint of all life as it knows it.”

what is a contingency if not a way to ensure his life’s work one day sees completion.

“extinction will no longer be a threat.”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
anya fowl